Unto Tellius, a Curse
by Sin Divo
Summary: A shadow circles the land. The saga of the Greil Mercenaries has become a tale on the wind. With this wind, new conflict rises. Now Tellius shall repent for its sins both old and new, and its fate bows at the heels of mystery and the Dark Angel.
1. Prologue

**Unto Tellius, a Curse**

Thrust aside, he lay in the dirt with the wounded wing he was to drag now.

"Begone, wretch," sneered the man who scowled at the poor being. "I haven't a use for abominations such as you."

His fears and confusion were suddenly swept aside. Rage arose in him once more. As the man whirled about on his heel and hastily departed, the angered creature rose from the ground, his eyes now aflame with nothing less of anger and hate. But he lifted his head and stared to the stretch of branches about. The moon's light crept through the canopy's cracks, and beyond that light was the moon itself. It was of full glory. It was a beautiful white orb of mesmerizing purity within the darkness.

But what sort of purity was swelling in his chest? What sort of purity was this feral thirst...?

Prologue

Though wild noise dominated the room below, it was to the scratching of his quill that he listened. The remnants of the sun's glow were fading into the horizon. He sketched the numbers symbolizing the present day, year, and month at the top of the book's tan page. It would be the fifty-sixth page to be written. With his ruby eyes focused upon the blank paper, he listened to the commotion below.

"Who thinks I can chug all this down without stopping?" he heard Boyd daringly exclaim.

Following that was a song of voices, chanting, "Do it! Do it! Do it!" Among them were Shinon; Gatrie; Rolf; Mist; Mia; a few of their visitors including Lethe, Marcia, and Makalov; even Ike. He could hear every one of them. But he could not hear the voices of Mordecai, Titania, Oscar, Janaff, or Muarim. They were silent amidst the chanting. Soon Ranulf and Tormod became a part of it as well.

He went back to writing. He had challenged himself to write in the ancient language. Thus, as he ignored the noise, the sage slowly began to scratch the first symbols upon the page.

Footsteps faintly reached his ears. He did neither stop nor slow. The door behind him pushed open, a figure clutching its black doorknob. He refused to turn his pale peach face to the light pouring in. Titania entered, a golden candle holder held by its elegantly curving handle, her red braided ponytail swaying behind her. The white wax candle she carried had a small orange flame dancing atop it. She was wearing a white dress, a golden sash around her waist, a round golden cloth that hung from the sash and reached past her knees, a yellow collar with bumps along the edges and separate from the dress with the exception of the cleaner edges, and gold along the ends of her sleeves with single curls extending from the thin borders.

Titania set the candle down near the book. She smiled as the flame illuminated his pale face, revealed his long black-teal hair, and cast an amber glow into his pupils and irises. Still, he did not look up.

"Writing in the dark, Soren?" she casually teased. "Typical, typical."

He didn't glance up at her face for that remark, however. He did so because Titania petted the top of his head twice. Still expressing nothing, Soren stared at Titania's smiling face. Her emerald eyes glimmered playfully. Titania whirled about and gracefully departed. Watching her leave his room, Soren's gaze lingered upon her until she disappeared at the right of the doorframe.

Downstairs, the chants changed, becoming a pounding cluster of, "Go Boyd! Go Boyd!" People slammed their fists against the table. Shinon hiccuped, evidently drunk. Titania's footsteps faded.

Soren returned to his book, lending his focus to the page once more. His hair reached several inches past the middle of his back. It, unrestrained by his usual golden band, spilled over the table and hung below the edge of the desk. He wore a black shirt with long sleeves expanded at the ends, and a raised neck collar with a cornered split in the middle front. He donned black pants that were cut below the knees when he was seated in a chair. His face bore an adolescent youth, though he was a bit older than he seemed, with a small noise and chin and smoothly featured cheeks. The nails on his fingers were slightly long and had somewhat round, pointed tips.

He dipped the stiff and bare tip of his quill into the black ink bottle, sinking it twice before then placing it upon the page. Soren began the passage...

_"It has been long since the fall of Ashnard," _he cautiously wrote in this difficult language. _"The days that followed were wrought with such mirth that I, in my own content and daring mood, asked Ike to recall the minute that his father had died. I remember the silence he then evoked. Though I apologized for being rude, he bluntly responded that he was accustomed to it. There was an uneasy silence. I was not certain if he wanted me to leave._

_"However, what he told me was most...disturbing."_

Cheers erupted below as Boyd dropped a hollow barrel, savoring his praise.

_"It was in the morning that I asked him, and it was in the morning that he told me. Ike said that his father told him not to seek revenge on the Black Knight. He was told to live in peace within the borders of Gallia. This deeply worries me."_ He dipped his quill.

_"I think I can understand why Greil said this. If Ike sought revenge, then he would become a part of the chaos, and a giver, a waker of chaos...and he would drag us with him. Our deeds, despite intention, would be remembered. Grudges would be given birth."_

There was a commotion. Rolf had stolen Boyd's headband.

_"Our faces would be remembered. Battles of rage would break loose."_

Boyd was hollering.

_"And those who named us heroes would fight back."_

Oscar, in a panic, attempted to calm them. Soren replaced his quill's tip with more ink.

_"Although Ashnard is dead..."_

Rolf and Boyd thundered down the hallway.

_"I dread tomorrow's dawn. We were given no chance to do as Greil said._

_"Ah, turmoil...it is what drives anger and hate..._

_"What does a Branded like me know, though? Plenty enough."_

Soren rested the quill in its little ink bottle. He arose from his simple wooden chair, pushing it back, and flipped the cover which closed the book. He stepped around his chair and pushed it into the desk. Feeling famished, Soren turned and absentmindedly ambled out of his room with the candle's flame still alive. He turned to the right. But the sound of hurried footsteps interrupted him. Upon turning his head, he saw Rolf bolt into view from the bending wall, around the corner and past him. He watched Rolf flee down his hallway before glancing back to the corner. Boyd stormed in with tremendous speed, and blindly he rushed forth with an uncoordinated sway, slamming right into Soren -- who was shorter and a tad more fragile -- which caused them both to fall. Soren was thrown a painfully long distance away and landed on his back, his skull bouncing against the floor.

"AUCK!" he screamed in agony. Boyd had clearly fallen on his back, but not nearly as hard. The warrior shakily rose from the ground and scrambled over to Soren.

"S-sor...reh..." he apologized uncertainly, seeming dazed.

When Soren pushed himself back up, he abruptly clutched the back of his head. His face twisted with pain. He swung around, his glare murderous. Boyd realized that Soren desired no apology, and so he whirled around and ran for the dining room.

The chatter below subsided quickly. They knew from the thuds and voices what had happened. Now it would only be a matter of time before Soren did one last thing before dinner.

"BOYD, YOU THICK IDIOT! I WILL KILL YOU!"

And that last thing was crack.


	2. I :: Tomorrow's Dawn

**Chapter 1: Tomorrow's Dawn**

"Come on, Rhys, it was _entertaining_."

"Absolutely not, Shinon! I was completely appalled to find they had rolled down the stairs!"

"But it was _funny_. How often do you get to see Soren trying to strangle Boyd?"

Rhys and Shinon were both wandering just beyond the western wall of the fort. In a white outfit designed just like Soren's casual clothes, Rhys nervously listened for Soren himself. The dark sage was always prowling about at this hour -- and as Titania had suggested earlier, he was in a presumably testy mood. Rhys preferred not to experience Soren's abrupt snaps of impatience and piercing glare when he growled, stretching the corners of his lips back and exposing his unnaturally sharp canine teeth. Although this was an absolutely rare occurence, it was unsettling and unpleasant. Shinon, on the other hand, had never witnessed a snarling Soren.

Titania was leaning against the other wall from the outside. She had discovered that, in truth, Soren seemed quite serene and quiet. She observed as he consumed the half-basket of strawberries he had gathered, one by one, piece by piece.

"You're hungry," she chuckled. "You have juice dribbling down your chin!"

Oscar came into the area with a smile of amusement.

"May I have some?" Oscar asked, hovering by Titania. Soren wiped the juice away with his sleeve. He was courching beneath the tree nearest the wall, seeming detached from the forest. He lifted the expertly woven basket from his lap, both hands cupped around the sides, then turned his body without shifting his feet and held the basket out toward Oscar. Oscar strode to him, knelt down, and retrieved the basket. Several strawberries remained.

Soren stared at the green-garbed paladin, who arose and tossed a strawberry into his own mouth. Oscar wore a forest-green shirt with short sleeves, an open neckline in the shape of a V, and he had shorts of the same shade that were cut at the kneecaps when he stood.

Curling up beneath the shade, Soren lay on his side and watched the wall from a flipped perspective.

Mia and Gatrie were both emerging from the fort's entrance. Mia was wearing an orange short-sleeved shirt with a long blue skirt attached and a round neckline, while Gatrie had a white shirt and navy shorts. Gatrie bore a grin and Mia was laughing.

"And -- and the way they rolled down the stairs..."

"If Ike hadn't intervened, Boyd would've turned blue!"

Lethe sat atop the shed in front of the fort. Her slim legs hung over the edge and her yellow-orange tail lay in a curl beside her, its round tip twitching over the edge. Lethe had cat ears on the top of her head. Her hair, which had grown roughly around her shoulders, was the same color as her tail and ears. The irises of her widened eyes were a pale purple, and her pupils were broad slivers of a deeper shade. She was wearing her complex forest-themed Gallian garb. Four stripes -- two extending from both edges of her face and vanishing toward the cheeks -- were visible in vaguely orange colors. A forest-green fabric collar wrapped around the base of her neck. It was tied at the back from which two long tails extended, both tipped with small spheric bells and reaching her knees. Her collar bone was exposed. Attached to the torso by the bottoms were her short sleeves, light green with thick, darker borders lining the tops and bottoms. The torso was light yellow. It curved down into a corner at the middle front and middle back, though the top edge was straight. At the top was a green border as thick as the ones on her sleeves. From that border descended a crease-line down the middle through the lower body's half to the skirt, and crease-lines at the sides that ended upon meeting the lower-body half. Small threads crtossed over the middle crease; near the top, two threads in an X formation; beneath that, a tiny bridge; below that, another X. Farther below was a slightly longer thread, and the corner was the same dark yellow as the threads. The back was plain. The lower body was tightly fitted with light green, curving over where the legs met the body and formed a round piece at the front on the bottom. A dark green border followed the bottom edge. Her skirt was of the darkest green. It had splits in the sides and reached only several inches beneath the lower-body half's front piece. Around her waist, on the back and sides, were two thin belts joining into one at the front, held by two loops. A broad and brown belt wrapped around her left leg several inches below the knee. Pale green bandages tied about her right leg from the ankle to the middle of the lower leg. She wore yellow shoes with large collars, brown wrappings at her ankles and before the toes, and a crease along the tops. To complete such elaborate clothing she had a frilly white cloth around her right forearm, with two leather, brown bands joined near the elbow, crossing over one another toward the waist and ending at the leather glove that left the fingers exposed; white bandages around her left arm from the elbow to the knuckles; then lastly two green beads somewhere in the back of her head.

Lethe loudly yawned. These beorc were boring in the morning, but in the least they were talking. Chatter filled the air. She could smell strawberries behind her.

"It's not like him though," said Gatrie with a frown. "I wonder if..."

"Maybe he still hasn't gotten over the fall of Ashnard," Mia flatly replied. "He's pretty dramatic."

"Aren't we all?" He grinned, his eyes filled with amusement. Gatrie found himself following Mia to the southern entrance, where hills and more of the forest lay.

Mia frowned. "What? I am not dramatic!" She tried to look over her left shoulder. "At least, not as dramatic as him."

Deep in the forest were Ike, Boyd, Ranulf, and Muarim. They hunted for fresh breakfast.

Muarim was in tiger form. His roughly shaped head and large, sharp nose inspected the earth for deer tracks. His coarse and short fur was green, decorated with jade stripes all over. His tail was tipped with a tuft of hair. A jade mane followed his spine from the top of his head to the center of his back. Protruding from the sides of his upper jaw were thick, elongated fangs. Bandages wrapped ariund his four ankles. His yellow eyes pierced the gloom. His shoulders and legs were heavily built, and his waist was rather thin.

Ike followed with a wary face. His hardened sapphire eyes watched the shadows around them, Shade was cast upon his light tan face, somewhat concealing its matured yet still youthful features. His short blue hair sat on his head in a reckless fashion. His right hand, which bore a rough texture in the palm, readily clutched the plain brown hilt of a gray iron sword. He wore a dark blue tunic with a short V-neckline, sleeves cut past the shoulders, and a brown belt bearing a golden buckle. Around his legs, Ike wore dirty white leggings. Mud and dirt stuck to his boots. His boots were brown with wide collars and flat soles curving vaguely to the shape of his feet. Tied about his shoulders was his cape, red on the outside and a light dusty brown on the inside.

Boyd trudged after them, his axe propped over his left shoulder. He had a faded red outfit similiar to Rhys's and Soren's, but with a short turtleneck and sleeves cut at the elbows. His carefree eyes were dark green like his short and bushy hair. Below the base of his bangs was a brown headband, with a line along the middle and a large, dark gray rectangle in the middle front. His boots were similiar to Ike's with thicker soles and round tops. Although Ike had some bulk on him, Boyd was a bit more burly.

A great and magnificent creature bounded in front of them. It bore great antlers and muscles. Muarim immediately raced at it with a growl. The tiger leapt upon the buck before it could flee too far, toppling it over in a rush, his jaws on its throat. As the deer writhed painfully, Ike quickly raced over, collapsed, and slid his blade through its heart.

In came Ranulf with a yowl. He was in cat form, with a round blue head, a short white muzzle, big ears with white fuzz inside, white fur down the chest and belly, a slim body, a long tail with a round tip, a little black nose and gleaming black eyes, and bandages just like Muarim.

"Mreowr!" he yelped, then said in his light and optimistic voice, "Muarim gets all the fun!"

"And so does Ike," chortled Boyd.

"Ew." Ike removed his iron sword. "My blade's filthy."

Back in the fort, Soren was snatching eggs, taking a few from every nest he came upon. He left one or two remaining before flitting to another nest.

Oscar had left to gather water from the river with Rolf, whose hair was messier and a lighter shade of green than his older brothers' Boyd and Oscar.

Mia and Gatrie were conversing with Shinon. Mia noticed that Shinon wore a tunic, exactly the same design as Ike's, of a jade color and white leggings with creases down the sides. Rhys had retreated into the fort.

Marcia was with Titania, observing the clouds drift by. She had taken her pegasus from the stables by the fort and come around through the front, as there was no eastern exit. Her pegasus's golden reins were lightly grasped in her fingers. The breeze lifted her long pink hair. Her brother, Makalov, was still asleep; presumably, so was Muarim's beorc friend, Tormod.

Titania returned to the fort. Oscar and Rolf came carrying buckets of water. Soren attempted to climb back down to the earth. Ranulf arrived, followed by Ike and Boyd carrying a deer carcass, and Muarim pulling a body along with his jaws. Shinon trailed along into the building. Janaff, in full Phoenician garb, glided out of the window on great hawk wings to aid Soren.

A few sniggered upon seeing the hawk glide into the same window carrying a petrified figure.

Rhys politely smiled. "Just like when I had to rescue you before."

"Except worse," muttered Soren as he was being set down. He was never carried through the skies so quickly before.

"You are the most lightweight beorc I have ever met!" Janaff quietly exclaimed.

Soren's silence turned absolute.

The entire time, Mist had scurried around, cleaning messes and folding clothes. Mordecai was helping her. Now Mist was in the kitchen, preparing breakfast with eggs and some meat that Rhys confirmed was safe for eating.

Rolf lay across a couch in the lobby, supine and staring at the ceiling with wide blue eyes. His head lay on his hands and he wore a miniature version of Boyd's clothes, although he had small and flatter shoes with red laces. He waited for Mist to finish cooking. He heard Marcia walk in with the pegasus loitering outside.

Makalov drowsily wandered the hallways on the upper floor, his poofy pink hair a tangled mess.

"_Spri-i-ing_!" Mia sang and she leaned out the window. Makalov turned and walked into the hallway. "What a wonderful da-a-ay! A great day to pla-a-ay!"

"H, Mia," yawned Makalov wearily, and he rubbed his eye. The girl turned around and grinned.

"Hiya, Mac!" she excitedly replied, bouncing on the spot. Her purple hair bounced with her. Makalov could see her white headband, held behind her ears and wrapping round the top of her head. Her hair was a round cluster that grew around her shoulders.

Oscar sat alongside Rolf's brown leather couch, his legs folded, his body facing Rolf, with whom he cheerfully spoke. Muarim lingered near the left wall, his swaying green tail with its round tip lazily tracing random patterns into the air. Like Mordecai, he had small ears on the sides of his head resembling a beorc's ears, though pointed and green on the outside, becoming white as it came into the furred insides. Soren had left his sandals by the entrance and now walked only on the bandages around his ankles and heels. He glanced at Muarim, whose flatly featured face displayed green stripes similiar to Lethe's. There was Gatrie stretching his back near the right wall. Shinon leaned against the northern doorway of the kitchen. Ike came in through the entrance at the south, scratching the back of his head. Boyd stood behind Rolf's couch -- which was positioned at the east of the large circular rug in the center -- with his elbow against the couch, his hand supporting his head, his knuckles against his cheek. Soren followed the perimeter of the rug. It covered a great area of the grey floor. Ike noticed that the white cloth around Muarim's unkempt hair seemed a bit tan, possibly from dust. Some of the group wandered the lobby doing insignificant things.

"Breakfast is ready!"

Mist's voice awakened every mind from idle leisure. Up the stairs went Muarim, intending to awaken Tormod. Shinon was the first into the kitchen. Following him was Boyd, Rolf, Oscar, Gatrie, Soren, and Ike. The green-haired brothers hurried in while the others took their patience and time to enter.

The table was long, rectangular, and brown. Ike seated himself at one of the ends. Titania was already sitting at the other. There was one chair at both ends, then eight chairs on both sides. Each chair was wooden, with four fifteen-inch legs and round flat seats. The back were tall and curved vertically, about three feet each. They were plain; they were sturdy. Soren placed himself at the seat on Ike's left, and Gatrie sat on his right a seat away. Shinon sat another seat away from Gatrie. Between them sat Mia, and between Gatrie and Ike sat Mist. Mordecai and Rhys delivered the plates. Boyd sat at Titania's right. Oscar sat across, and Rolf next to Oscar. Janaff sat next to Soren.

"Lightweight," he echoed in Soren's ear.

By Janaff settled Lethe, who drooled at the food. Alongside Rolf sat Makalov, with Marcia between Shinon and he. With a yawn entered Tormod, his brown hair nothing more than a great mess. Tormod sat by Boyd. Claiming the chair beside him was Muarim. Carrying his own plate, Mordecai sat next to Lethe. Rhys had his own, held with one hand -- whereas Mordecai had used both -- and seated himself between Mordecai and Muarim.

Ike could almost smile as he glanced over the table. Every seat was occupied. Never had he seen the table so full, even when his father was still alive. As chatter arose, his eyes drifted to a dish on the counter behind Mordecai.

"Where's Ranulf?" he called out, and only Boyd failed to halt in his murmured conversation.

In ambled Ranulf, the flopping ears on his headband flopping below his own ears. The orange headband wrapped around his forehead and skull with sand-tinted cotton on the inside pushing his spiked sky blue hair up. The cat laguz froze upon noticing the lack of an empty seat.

Conversations resumed, although Ike, Lethe, Mordecai, Gatrie, Soren, Rhys, Marcia, Mist, and Oscar stared toward him.

"You can have my seat," Ike offered. Ranulf blinked, grinned, and shook his head.

"Nah. Thanks, though."

Ranulf noticed a wooden stool with a brown leather top, sitting in the corner to his left. He bounded over, lifted it to this chest, and hurried over to Ike's right as Ike pushed his chair aside. Ranulf then retrieved his dish and settled.

Soren stared down at his plate. A slice of meat and chunk of scrabled eggs covered the white surface. He could see spices and sauce had been added.

Janaff gazed down suspiciously.

Ranulf was sniffing at it.

Shinon prodded the meat.

"Ah, right!" said Ike. "Silverware! Ranulf, could you get it?" Ranulf nodded, then walked away with a drifting tail. Ike knocked on the table -- a command for them to silence. "Family and friends of family, we have come together to share once again the times we shared nights ago. As the sun rises from its blanket of earth, Tellius wakes to its blessings."

"Let us share with Tellius these blessings," gently finished Titania, ending the prayers for the morning.

"Dig in!"

Some with silverware began to eat. Those without silverware simply waited. The first to take a bite was ravenous Boyd, whose expression of cheer abruptly vanished once the fork holding meat was in his mouth. Titania paused after lifting her fork, staring at Boyd. Oscar frowned and Rolf said, "Huh?" Mist noticed Soren didn't even reach for his fork or knife. He just stared at her. Ike consumed a chunk of egg and nearly gagged. Lethe's head was lowered to her fork, but lifted it to watch. Mordecai stared at Ike with concern. Gatrie stuffed his entire slice in his mouth. Shinon lost interest and trust. Rolf ate half of his egg an immediately seemed ill. Janaff merely prodded at the egg with his fork. Muarim ate the meat without a complaint, but Tormod exclaimed how bizarre it tasted. Makalov stopped eating after a few bites, Marcia didn't dare to eat her breakfast after observing, Mia ignored the taste and devoured both portions, Rhys pushed his plate away in alarm, and Ranulf was licking his plate clean.

"I'm sorry for my rudeness," Rhys apologized, his hand against the side of his head. His neat mahogany hair was dull in the kitchen light.

Gatrie groaned with a feeling of queasiness.

Ike attempted to force more food down.

Rolf rolled out of his chair onto his hands and knees, head limp, and spewed orange vomit onto the floor.

"Eeyuh!" Tormod abruptly yelped. Boyd gawked. Oscar rose from his chair and quickly stepped over to Rolf, bowed and attempted to lift him by the shoulders, and then received a splatter of vomit on his foot. Oscar grimaced at the slime.

Soren turned his head to Ike. "...This is why I had strawberries this morning."

Ike gagged on venison -- which was deer meat -- Ranulf asked Mist for seconds, Gatrie consumed the rest of his plate, Titania turned her head after a single bite of the egg, Shinon pounded the table with a fist in laugter, and Rhys cringed.

"Oops," meekly said Mist. "...That wasn't sauce..."

* * *

Spring was peaceful, holding the spirit of birth and cheer. It was now nearly the hour of the sun's descension. Chatter of the morning meal had subsided by then. Mist knelt on the shores by the ocean, picking the clusters of flowers that bloomed and humming her mother's melody. Mordecai sat with crossed legs nearby.

Although Lethe had four and Muarim had six,Mordecai bore many stripes on his face. They were smaller and slimmer, dark blue in color like his pointed ears which were tan on the inside. His eyes were narrow and calm, and the irises were yellow. The pupils were narrow slits. His face was broad, his nose lare, cheeks flat, and shoulders heavily built. His light blue hair pushed back and grew around his head, cheeks, and chin.

"What do you think?"

In her hands, Mist held two flowers with yellow petals and three with pink petals.

"I think they are wonderful," said Mordecai, and he smiled. Mist smiled in return and went back to singing.

Somewhere in the meadow far south of the fort, a small magic group had formed. Rhys, Tormod, and Soren sat aside one another, doing different things. Rhys's hands were clasped together in silent prayer, his head bowed and eyes closed. Tormod concentrated on levitating a small flame. His eyes were shut and his right hand was raised, its fingers pinched below the ember. Soren sat upright with his face to the sky, his eyes also closed; he was on his knees and his arms rested along his legs. He was meditating.

In the skies above the fort glided Janaff and Marcia's pegasus. Marcia's blue eyes gleamed fiercely as she leaned into the wind, her winged steed racing the massive hawk in a contest of sky speed. Janaff, in his hawk body, was swift and instinctive, his beak tearing through the air and sleek feathers cutting across the eye. Marcia glanced at his narrow eyes and jagged crest, his head tan and hooked beak the same shade.

Ranulf and Lethe sat in the trees, watching the two zip along. Their shadowed figures flew for the sunset. Ranulf's cat ears, camoflauged in his hair, twitched and perked. Lethe's tail was restless.

In a sudden instant, Janaff stopped midair. His feathers quickly melted ino clothing and skin as his wings shifted behind his shoulders. Marcia, alarmed by the halt, yankwed on her steed's reins and the pegasus reared back with a whicker and a whinny. The falling sun glowed against her red gold-lined chestplate. Marcia' pegasus turned to Janaff in his tribe form. Lethe and Ranulf quickly glanced to the sunset.

"Wyvern riders ho!" loudly shrieked Janaff.

To mount more onto the alarm, Lethe cried, "Armed with weapons!"

"We've got some invaders on foot, too!" finished Ranulf.

Marcia rode out to the fort with Janaff pursuing. Lethe and Ranulf nimbly scurried down the trees and fled for the base.

Soren, Rhys, and Tormod swiftly rose to their knees. Rhys led them out of the meadow. The shouts had been loud enough to carry to their ears.

"Mist, we must go."

"Why?"

"We are being attacked."

"Oh...okay..."

Mordecai stood with an outstretched hand. Mist placed hers into it, dropping her flowers as Mordecai pulled her up and took her to the fort.

Ike was marching around the carpet in the lobby, shouting commands as the commander he was, with the blessed Ragnell sword at his side. The torn edge of his old cape fluttered over the ground. His boots, the collars two inches below the knees, collected dust on their thick soles. The soles were metal platforms beneath the heels and frontal foot joints. They were white though the heels were grey, the shoes were brown with leather streaks along the tops and creases beside the stripes, black wrapping just around the heel and completely covering the necks and folded collars, and two brown threads streaming from the outer sides beneath the collars.

"Outfit yourselves! Gather your weapons! Assume places in the lobby! Move, Greil Mercenaries, _move_!"

He donned white leggings. He wore a soft leather tunic of the same shade as his hair, with long sleeves rolled up to the elbows; golden borders following the line cutting down the middle, and tracing the middle edges where the tunic split at the front below the belt; fatter borders running from the lines along the bottom; an extra piece hanging from his belt around his waist -- and a thinner darkgreen belt below that, crimson threads typing and binding the two on his right, the thin belt hanging somewhat messily with a tail loosely swaying.

"Check inventory! Bring vulneraries! Elixirs! And don't fall flat on your face!"

He had a shoulder guard with thickened edges and a grey-brown hue. Around his chest was a unique plate, expanded over his left and wrapped around like thread, with a silver buckle by the widened portion. His guard sat on his left shoulder. He wore black gloves cut past the knuckles which had steel on the tops. Bandages covered his right arm beneath the glove.

The collar of ihs tunic was wide and large, curving down at the front and then sharply cutting down into a corner. Beneath his blue and gold tunic was a brown one. It was just as long and had little else description. Finally, around his forehead was his black headband, tied on the back and leaving two tails with torn edges to flow freely. Near those edges were broad strings of intricate design.

Ike drew Ragnell and jabbed it at yawning Makalov.

"Hey!" he barked. "Wake up! We're about to go into battle!"

"Y-yessir!"

Now Ike jabbed a bow-wielding Rolf.

"Where's Mist?"

"With Mordecai! I think they're coming back."

Then he pointed at Lethe.

"Don't you dare turn that at me!" she hissed angrily.

"What do you know about our enemy?"

"Huh? Oh. A horde, carrying many beorc weapons. Too far to tell anything else."

Ragnell was looking at Janaff.

"Not too many, about five or six..."

"I heard many footsteps though," Ranulf added disheartedly. "Roughly fifteen."

"Fifteen...six...those are oddly high numbers," Ike pondered.

"Daein," reported a blunt voice, "and hired rogues, no doubt. The last of Daein's bloodline is dead. One of the villages must've sent them for revenge on us Crimean mercenaries." There stood Soren by the eastern doorway with a readily cold expression. Their staff officer was in full formal garb, his elaborate robes as dark as his hair and rather obscure crimson eyes. He wore his hair in two threads, both held by golden bands of crossing patterns. These ponytails hung limply from his head.

"Daein?" echoed Ike.

"Daein."

"But the war -- "

"Humans! They don't care for the end of the wars when they cannot learn from the undesired bloodshed," he bitterly spat as he closed his eyes.

"Hmph. I'd hate to agree, but I do," announced Lethe.

Soren now had his eyes on Ike, who had turned away to Titania.

"Anything?"

"I've only noticed some bandits rushing into the area."

"That must be the group approaching us on -- "

"Heed us, Greil Mercenaries!" cried the piercing, sharp voice of a young man. Everyone present -- Ike, Titania, Soren, Makalov, Rolf, Janaff, Lethe, Muarim, Oscar, Ranulf, Rhys, and Shinon -- were soon staring at the doorway.

"Oh, what -- form up, everyone!"

Ranulf was the quickest to be outside. Lethe stood by him soon after. Oscar burst out to retrieve the horses from the stables. Ike positioned himself between and in front of the two cat laguz with deputy commander Titania and staff officer Soren at his sides. Ike felt his chest grow heavy upon seeing the square outer walls of the fort, his mind drifting back to their old home somewhere in the northeast.

"Hmm...they move quicker than the wyvern riders," Titania remarked quietly.

The man continued to holler. "Your acts for Crimea against Daein have gone unforgiven! We, as fellow mercenaries, take the risk to warn you, and request that you not hold back. Do you reply?"

"We are grateful and will hold nothing back," Ike declared in return.

"Our band has been ordered to strike whilst the wyverns arrive. Prepare yourselves!"

Rhys emerged with Tormod behind, holding three heal staves. Each was of a sturdy brown wood, round and thick, reducing to a thin point at one end. At the top end perched a red orb on a hard, flat, and yellow crescent piece of metal.

"Quickly!" He passed one to Soren, tossing it into his hand.

"Rhys, I'm not..."

"I know, not a practitioner of healing. But please do it. You're able to, and it'd be helpful. Tormod, could you -- "

"Nah, I'm fine with blastin' them."

"I suppose I'll give it to Mist then..."

The fingers of Soren's left hand slowly wrapped around the cold, blue metal hilt of his curved dagger in a tight grip.

Shinon and Gatrie arrived beside one another, standing in front of Titania. "Standard thunder-and-lightning, commander?" inquired Gatrie.

"Standard thunder-and-lightning!"

Muarim stormed in with his tiger-form triggered by his demi-band, guarding Ike behind him. Janaff hovered above them. Joining the group were Rolf, Boyd, and Mia.

"This'll be fun, boss!" exclaimed jubilant Mia.

"Oh no...they're moving already..." Ike murmured heavily. "Assume combat formation!"

The spellcasters and archers gathered near the entrance. Shinon was right behind Gatrie. Oscar hurried out leading two white horses, one with a blue sheet edged with gold over its back, the other with a red blanket that bore the same patterns. He offered the reins of the red steed to Titania, who took them and pulled herself onto its back. Oscar did the same. The paladins placed themselves in front of their fellows. Soaring over the fort was Marcia on her pegasus, who landed elegantly next to Tormod. In the distance, their rivals assembled into an arrow formation. A man seated upon the back of a bulky black horse led the horn, his silver armor gleaming in the fading sunlight. A white patch in the shape of a diamond was visible on the steed's forehead. Behind the man at his sides were two axe-wielders, bearing heavy muscles. Further forming the perimeter was another axeman on Ike's left, and a swift swordmaster to the right. Behind those units were additional swordmasters, and by them were two more each.

"No archers, huh?" bluntly said Shinon. Gatrie tossed his lance up and it landed flat on its end. It stood tall as he kept a firm grip on its grey steel handle.

"Nope."

"Soren. Strategy?" Ike asked, turning his head and torso.

"They've formed a charging tactic," the young sage hurriedly replied. "Their axemen have handaxes, their horsemen has a silver lance, the swordsmen have steel blades, and there's a thief among them."

Ike nodded firmly and replied, "Alright..."

"What's avoidable is clashing with them head-on. I propose that we form up so that we may surround them as they come."

Ike glanced to their deputy commander. "Titania?"

"A sound strategy," Titania answered formally.

Now sweeping his eyes to their enemy, Ike composed his mind and readied his sword arm for the invaders.

"Alright, everyone! Reverse arrow positions!"

"Reverse?" echoed Boyd.

"Reverse. Which means mounted units in back and fighters in front, laguz go on their free will, flyers come down from above!"

Everyone rushed at his command, shaping their perimeter around him.

"Magic-users and archers stay behind the formation!"

Immediately, the spellcasters and snipers retreated to the rear, hiding behind Titania. On Titania's front left was Oscar, and on the front right was Gatrie.

"Back moves first, and if they break formation, then scatter-and-reinforce-each-other-Greil-Mercenaries-move-out!"

Ike had to silence himself quickly, as their foes were nearing with swift feet. He thrust his sword into the air and rushed forth at the enemy mercenaries. Titania followed on her trotting horse. A few paces after, Oscar began to move, and Gatrie attempted to trail after them with awkward and heavy footsteps. It was difficult to run in such ridiculously thick and heavy armor. Soon Boyd by Oscar and Mia by Gatrie were running as well. Rolf dashed after his brothers. Rhys hurried behind Titania. Ranulf and Lethe shifted into their agile laguz bodies, and with Muarim sprinted past the company to ridicule and disgrace the rivals' performance. Janaff glided through the dim light nearly twenty feet above the ground.

"Where is Makalov? Curse, you, Makalov, get your lazy buttocks out here!" Alongside Janaff rode Marcia, whose hair danced with the free wind as she called for her brother, her eyes focused on the fort behind her.

"This seems like an easy task," Shinon told Soren in a most dull tone. "Too boring for my skills. I'll stand back and rest."

Soren heard Tormod scurry toward the battle behind him. His eyes fell into narrowed irritation.

"We honestly can't have thunder without lightning," he replied just as plainly.

"Yeah, but what with the sub-humans picking them off, we can just relax."

"Even laguz are of idealistic and practical minds. They're not raving, snarling monstrosities." He briefly glanced back to the battle, where iron and steel flashed against cloth and armor. The black horseman had his lance lifted high. His familiar's front hooves raised above its ground, its mane tossed, body twisted, mouth agape in a violent whicker, and head thrown up to the sky. It seemed that Ike was brandishing his sword near the steed's throat. Titania was moving with her horse as though they were one creature of war. The mare was collapsing into a momentary crouch, its beorc comrade straightened her back, and Titania smoothly swung her solid shining axe at the opponent's thigh whilst clutching the reins tightly with her left hand. A cry rose from the man as Titania's weapon cut into its target. He quickly tugged on his wild stallion's black mane, and it retreated several steps back as Titania yanked her axe away. Pain was visible among the twisted features of his peach face.

"Since when did you become a laguz lover?" said Shinon with a smirk. Soren immediately cast his glare over Shinon.

"Excuse me?" he asked in a quieter voice.

"Nothing, nothing...you little whelp."

Boyd's own axe clashed against the enemy's. "Ha!" He twisted his arms, and both axes followed. The warrior's rival attempted to free his weapon. However, Boyd dislodged his first and flung it past his knee as it it was the heaviest object in all of existence. The other man staggered before bringing his axe over his head with great effort, just as Boyd pulled his up in a swing at the foe's belly. His aim was poor. The axe flew up and clanged against his opponent's steel, slamming it off its course of cutting into his skull. "Hurk -- ya!" In a reflex effort the weapon sailed down and chopped deeply into the right shoulder by the neck's base. Boyd's rival howled and shut his eyes. He stumbled back as Boyd rested his own axe his own shoulder. Blood laced the battleaxe's broad edge, sweat formed in his hands, and his heart pulsed wildly.

As blood dripped from the man's clutched wound, Janaff descended in a screaming swoop and bolted at him. Equipped with only muscle, cloth, and few pieces of metal, the wounded warrior easily stepped aside, avoiding the hawk's hooked and piercing beak. Boyd glanced about to observe the battle around him. It seemed that the thief was not fighting. No yellow strand of his neat blond hair went astray, nor did any part of his green clothing rip or tear. So peculiar was this that Boyd succumbed to his temptation of approaching the boy.

"Hey! What's up?"

Alarmed, the thief suddenly turned his head to him. "Y-yeah?" said the figure in a strangely feminine tone. Boyd halted several steps away, mouth open.

"Wait...you're no guy!"

"That's right. I'm the leader."

"No way," Boyd replied in genuine disbelief. The girl smiled, although it was quick to vanish.

"My mother used to lead them, but she died in battle." Turning to a direction, she pointed at Titania. "She was just like your red-haired knight."

Intrigued, Boyd raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

The girl lowered her arm. "Mmhm. That black horse used to be hers."

"_Hi-yaa_!" hollered Ike, and he swung his sword at a diagonal down. Ragnell's blade had then knocked the enemy's lance out of his hand. It was thrown aside and flatly landed in the grass.

Soren's eyes flicked across the field. His comrades had surrounded the other mercenaries, whilst metal and magic screamed and howled through the cries and roars of the combatants. Occupying the seven myrmidons, Marcia dove in and up with a blood-coated lance, her pegasus elegantly moving and twirling. Ranulf was fiercely whacking at one's head, wielding his flashing claws. Lethe growled in her most ferocious voice behind Ranulf's target. Rolf fired arrow after arrow at the man meeting blades with Mia. Gatrie was being swarmed by three of the swordsmen, but his great gold-lined, blue armor proved difficult to penetrate. He was shouting indiscernable speech through his visor as he swung his lance as the advancing men. Aiding him were Tormod commanding explosive fire spells and Rhys hurling chunks of light magic.

"Stane! Deryl!" shrieked the young thief as Ike whacked the knight in the side with Ragnell's flat face, and the warrior fell off the back of the stallion. "Deryl!" Rushing to her friend's aid, the girl left Boyd and snatched the flying mane of panicking Stane.

There was a swordsman behind Boyd, raising his blade. Soren cried out on instinct. "Boyd! Behind you!" He quickly calmed as the fur-garbed warrior whirled around and leapt back before the sword could cut into his helmet.

The three axemen danced around Oscar, unable to come close enough to the paladin. Janaff dove recklessly at one and crashed into the ground.

"Janaff!" exclaimed startled Oscar.

"That's -- Uncle Janny, kid!" the hawk cried as his body faded back to tribe form. He was on his hands and knees, glaring at their three foes.

Ike walked to the thief, who crouched alongside Deryl. "Do you want to stop the battle?" he politely asked. He was breathing hard and was pointedly paying little attention to the throbbing bruises on his face -- and chest, abdomen, and arms. The girl glanced up with a face of concern.

"I...I don't know..."

"It's not worth it if your family has to die." Ike's shoulders and muscles relaxed, his grip still warily tight on his sword's handle. He watched as she went to pondering at the ground.

Shinon was staring absentmindedly at the fort's entrance. Out burst Makalov with a scream, forcing alerted Sren to turn his head.

"Wh-what did I miss?"

"Just a bit of battle," said Shinon lightheartedly. "Not too troubling. Don't even bother to consider jumping i -- "

"Get your horse," Soren commanded immediately. Makalov blinked wildly, stunned.

"Huh?"

"Your horse. Get your horse." The sage quickly glanced to the west. From the falling sun came six shadowed figures, each with a pair of wde jagged wings and a body mounted upon their backs. They were distant, one far behind the other, and rather scattered, but dread weighed itself in his entrails. Makalov seemed not to notice as he dashed into the stables clumsily.

Through this moment, Mia and her rival were leaping around each other in constant circles. Mia's performance suffered from a deep cut on her ankle. She winced every time she shifted onto her left foot. Her opponent, his light tan arms and legs coated in numerous cuts, was quick to notice this new advantage. With sweat streaming down his forehead he sprinted at the woman with his sword clutched in his right hand, its tip just a few inches over the ground, and lifted it in a crossing uppercut at her waist. A strong wooden arrow pierced the myrmidon's wrist before he could properly wield his weapon. Rolf, a distance away near Gatrie's battle, celebrated gleefully by donning a joyous grin and nocking another. Mia noticed the arrowhead embedded in the back of the man's wrist. She flung herself into him, her left elbow digging into his chest, and the white sword spun out of the man's hand.

Rolf quickly turned around, planning to fire an arrow at an axeman using his swift fingers. One lay supine with outstretched arms and flattened legs, unconscious. The second retreated in a panic with brutal injuries. The third was attempting to pull Oscar's lance from his grip, for his axe was far from his reach and he had decided to try at disarming Oscar. Nearby stumbled Gatrie. While Mia wrestled with her foe on the ground, yelping and shouting behind the young archer, Rolf aimed upon a new target. The arrow and string slipped from his fingers. Whistling, the arrow soared into the nape of the fighter struggling against Oscar. The watched as his vicim roared, threw his head back, and staggered a few paces away. Rolf felt proud of his success. He shoved the image of the axeman's blood-spitting wound out of his mind, eagerly glancing at Gatrie for someone else to feather, his heart thumping agains his ribs in excitement.

Then the cry of ther unmistakeable tactician howled, "Wyvern riders!"

Ike took a hurried glance arund, then down to Deryl and the girl. "This is your last chance to consider."

Her arms hung around her comrade's shoulders. The thief glanced in the direction of the riders, her face full of fear and indecision. She looked behind herself to see the mercenaries still absorbed in combat. As she gazed about the battlefield, the thief noticed the unconscious axeman, the wounded swordsmen, and the other two warriors suffering pain from arrows and lesions. With her choice in mind, she looked up at Ike and firmly nodded.

"I'll withdraw. Thank you."

Immediately everyone lowered their weapons and stances.

"What?" said a black-haired man with brown skin. His sword was ready to slip from his hand. "No! No, Zelia we can still win!"

Mia's rival rose from the ground, trembling and scowling. "Coward. Weakling. You were never fit to be leader."

"Cease!" shouted Deryl. He flung himself onto his legs and tried to rise, but simply fell onto his knee. Pain crossed Deryl's face before he continued. "Zelia was entrusted to this position. You have no right to insult and defy your own commander."

Ike felt awkward, for he had once been the same as Zelia -- inexperienced at leading and without parents.

The girl appeared to stumble with her coherent thoughts. "No, don't try -- d-don't strain yourself, okay?"

"No...they have to learn to respect position..."

"Take refuge in our fort," Ike offered. Zelia gratefully nodded.

She glanced to the fort and cried, "Let's go!" Zelia's mercenaries were swift in response, immediately aiding one another to march to safety. Lethe, still in cat form, took several steps back to allow he men to pass. The two axemen carried their comrade. One still had the arrow in his beck. Deryl laid on Stane's back, led by Zelia. Titania's horse stepped away as a lance-beaten myrmidon helped his claw-torn friend walk along.

Makalov raced out of the stables with the reins of his horse in his hand. When he saw the group approaching, he hollered with fight, only to be silenced by Shinon walking to him and saying, "Shut up."

Marcia, far away, grinned at her brother as she dismounted her pegasus. Gatrie removed his helmet and sighed.

"They're pretty strong themselves," Gatrie remarked admirably.

As the group trudged past Shinon, a hand slapped him in the back of his head. "Ow!" His unusually narrow eyes shut and he clutched his skull below the high base of his ponytail. Shinon glanced around indignantly, crying, "Who's the dead fool who did that?" None of them returned even a peek at his long face, maroon hair, green and brown clothing, or the quiver of arrows with ends of red feathers hanging on his back.

Soren was now racing to his comrades, his staff lifted above the ground. Hos other hand strung from thwacking Shinon's rock of a head.

"Usayi uzikaman," he muttered, sweeping his arm toward Ike wihlst raising the staff. Ike's bruises faded. Soren proceeded to heal Titania, Gatrie, and Mia. Rhys was already restoring the wounded elsewhere on the field.

Tormod, one among the unharmed, brandished his limb excitedly at the air. "Daein!" he yelped, and as every eye turned to the six arriving wyvern riders, people shifted positions and dashed around the area. Janaff flew to Ike, landed almost recklessly on his feet, then reported a most unwell message.

"They're not lowering their weapons," said Janaff. "They're ready for a straight fight."

"Then we'll give them one. Greil Mercenaries! Form up!"

Ike turned to face the west, his eyes avoiding the sun. He heard the flap of robes and a cloak on his left, then the scramble of hooves on the ground to his right. His faithful comrades, Soren and Titania, had just joined him. Behind him, shifting steel and hurried footsteps were the only voices to speak. Ranulf sat there in tribe form, exhausted. Janaff restlessly wandered by the opening in the eastern wall. Muarim was settled next to Lethe the orange cat, licking his claws clean of dirt. Makalov trotted to the company on horseback.

Someone small approached. "Um...Commander Ike?" said Rolf timidly. "Since they're wyvern riders, can I have a first shot?"

Ike looked to the boy. "Of course. It'd be helpful. Get Shinon to help too."

As Ike returned to watching the coming wyvern riders, Rolf shouted at his mentor, cupping his hands around his mouth. "Uncle Shinon! We need your help!"

The Ike-irked sniper pushed himself away from the wall with a sigh. "What? The boy can't care care of himself? Some commander he is..." As he scratched the side of his head, Shinon approached them with long, impatient strides. He retrieved his flexible longbow from its place on his back. Shinon stood in front of Ike, obscuring the commander's view of the skies, and swiftly drew a long arrow from his great and delicately decorated quiver over his shoulder, pulling the string back, the thin metal arrowhead directed at the airborne spearmen. Rolf took up position in front of Titania and immediately imitated his teacher. Trained in wind magic, Soren flourished his hands free of his gold-lined black sleeves, setting them out the sides of his shoulders as though he stood between walls in a narrow passage. The air quietly shifted around him. Chatter grew still, weapons were readied, the sun's light faded, and the wyvern riders clustered into a great mass silhouetted against the disappearing afternoon glow.

The wyverns were slow to arrive. They seemed rather unsteady in their flight. With arrows nocked the archers held patient, and the winds around Soren turned violent. They seemed to swirl clockwise at his feet, carrying the tails of his turquoise and goldenrod sashes, brushing the four wings of his robe; yet at his head, the air spun the opposite direction, lifting away his two ponytails. His dark grey cape was caught between the currents. In the back, Rhys and Tormod had retreated as far as they could from their foes. Muarim stood on his four limbs, his tail swaying behind him. Marcia patted her steed's nose before preparing to mount. Gatrie leaned against his lance, for his armor was heavy. Boyd rested his axe on his shoulder. Makalov, on a horse most unwell with anxiety, patrolled the ground in front of Rhys and Tormod, his pale face afflicted with the first stages of a cringe. Oscar was right next to Boyd, relaxed but alert. Janaff sat on his rump with his body supported by his hands near Ranulf. Lethe quietly growled at the horizon. Holding her sword by the hilt, Mia's face was fixed in a sober, determined stare.

Each wyvern shrieked their death calls in a clashing, shaking symphony, and Ranulf shivered whilst Lethe's tail twitched and Muarim winced. The piercing screams appeared to disturb Marcia's pawing pegasus. Soren's chest briefly tightened. Rhys let out a shuddering sigh and Titania's face immediately hardened. Every expression was wary, cautious, enduring -- and trained.

"Uncertain...that is...our future," slowly said a monotone voice. Ike turned his blue eyes to Soren. The sage was still gazing at the wyverns, the winds around him becoming impatient. "Daein...our ruined home...Crimea...the ties between laguz and beorc... I feel unsettled."

Ike hesitated, then quickly replied, "Do you know why?"

Seeming slightly distracted, Soren shook his head.

"Don't worry. Whatever the future throws at us, we'll face it."

"Mm."

The commander returned his attention to the beasts and men in the air. It appeared that the wyverns had become excited, for their wings beat quicker and their glides turned swift. Their leader soared at their backs, a flying black banner with the flame-red symbol of Daein clutched in one hand, and the silver reins of the black wyvern grasped in the other. The banner appeared ready to tear away from its long golden pole.

For a brief moment, Titania began to wonder. These wyvern riders were arriving from the west, but there was only the ocean on that horizon. Daein was in the northeast. This struck her as somewhat bizarre.

"Soren," she whispered, "they come from the direction of the shores, not from the direction of their kingdom."

The tactician opened his mouth, though no sound came -- and eventually he replied, "They must have intended to surprise or astonish us. However, their mercenaries were too soft-hearted to maintai -- "

"For Talrega! Die, Crimean vermin! Your cold blood shall pay for its deed by spilling forth and bowing into the earth!"

Following the cry of their leader were the angry, confident calls of the spear-wielding riders as they sailed over the walls. In the instant, the place was pandemonium.

"Fire!"

Following the thrust of Ike's sword, the arrows ripped through the air and struck a wing in two different wyverns. The monstrous animals screamed, leaned, and plummeted to the earth below.

"Uuperron ukkupir!"

The words swiftly passed Soren's lips. His heart gave a great single throb as he flung his right arm up, his left below, with a right step behind; then spirits sang above him as a flashing green orb appeared over his head and vanished, and the wings turned on the wyverns and lashed at the four like whips. The turbulence brought them to the ground. Screams erupted. The Greil Mercenaries flooded forth. Soren swung his arm down past his left side, his heart pulsed powerfully again. and the air clawed at the enemy once more.

Lethe was bursting with shrill screeches as she jumped at a red wyvern's heels with her own claws. The beast stomped in a circle, roaring, only for the cat to leap off the ground and slide around the thrashing. She wrestled with its flaunting tail, biting fiercely and tearing at the scales.

She was one among the many who remembered the incident with Talrega. Talrega was a region full of innocent Daein villagers, and when they had come into the area, a flood surged forth, destroying crops and dismembering homes. It dismantled foundations and stole livestock. For this, Talrega accused the Crimean army. They never realized that the Daein militia had opened the floodgates, even if reluctantly. Although the mercenaries tried to lend aid, Talrega trusted none of them and none of their food. Crimeans were labeled bloodthirsty to the Daein people. They never sought to revel against their sovereign, Mad King Ashnard. Lethe remembered it all, for she had observed the battle for Talrega's open floodgates.

The wyvern's tail thrust her aside. With a grunt, Lethe landed on her side and the beast jumped forth as the sun shone into its slender face. A silver spearhead charged at her. She glimpsed a man in black plaid armor outlined in yellow before scrambling away, and the lance struck the ground. Muarim leapt in to intervene with his great tiger body. His sharp claws flashed, his razor fangs gleamed, and he attached himself to the red wyvern's chest, pulling viciously to tear flesh away. The wyvern screamed as blood spewed from its expanding wound. Lethe pounced while the man was distracted was and tackled him off his saddle. He landed on his shoulder screaming. The armored man stabbed with his lance, only to attack the air over Lethe's shoulder as the cat yowled and tore into him, shredding steel with the lance blindly piercing the air behind her. The stench of blood and cut steel overwhelmed her small nose. Her blood rushed madly as she slaughtered the helpless rider, ripping at the meat of his stomach like a truly dedicated beast. His shrieks of horror and torment swarmed the air. His spear was useless in his hand. The man became a cracass, a body of grated flesh, torn steel, and tugged entrails on the battleground. Lethe had spared no mercy for this Daein. With the taste of blood in her crimson mouth, she spat a stream onto the corpse's face and steadily reverted to tribe form. Exhausted, she sat on her knees upon the body's stomach.

The fur and whickers on Muarim's face were stained. Three cuts traced his head and a massive bruise marked his right ribs. But many slashes and scars were placed upon the thundering wyvern, and so it raged and roared as Muarim dashed at the unsteady creature, launching onto its head and digging into the eyes. Suddenly, as he landed back onto the earth several feet away, he heard the boom of powerful wings on his right. He glanced to a grey wyvern that soared directly at him. Without being able to quickly react, Muarim roared as the wyvern flew over and knocked him onto his side with its suspended tail. He heard a pound behind him. A sharp sting slid into his back and he howled. In front of him, it seemed that Oscar and Makalov were chasing the very same attackers, coming either to aid him or to resume battle with the grey wyvern and its master. Marcia dove in from above on her swift and elegant white pegasus, lunging at the rider. Muarim attempted to rise, but the red wyvern he had fought before stomped over to him and crushed him beneath its foot. He snarled as the beast bellowed triumphantly. However, Oscar and Makalov rode past the concerned Lethe, and while Makalov galloped past the wyvern to aid his pink-haired sister, Oscar struck it through the back and heart. Weakly, Muarim arose and fled with reserve strength whilst the monster gave one last screech before toppling forward. He abruptly halted near Lethe and flicked his head in the other direction. She quickly climbed on, aware that her weight was pain to injured but determined Muarim. He raced through the battle to the wall where Ranulf and Janaff rested. As Lethe dismounted, she removed his demi-band to force him to rapidly revert his body. He collapsed next to Lethe and rolled onto his back. She sat by him. Apparently, Ranulf was screaming at the others.

"Gatrie, get up! Up!"

The knight was on his back, thrown by the bright silver wyvern's tail. Rhys muttered a prayer behind his fist and thrust his hand into the air. A brilliant light shone above his head as he glanced to the skies, rays of light descending upon the rider and mount and cutting through both. The wyvern stumbled. Shinon walked over, knelt down, and pushed an exasperated Gatrie onto his hands and knees.

"Thanks, Shinon!" he panted as he tightened his grip on his lance, and he pushed himself into a stand. Gatrie swung around as Shinon rose behind him with a nocked arrow. Shinon soon shot the wyvern in the forehead and the reptilian animal simply fell onto its rump and sprawled out.

"M-Mordecai!" gasped Mist as they burst out of the northwestern forest. "What's going on?"

"They are fighting."

As though in pain, Mist closed her eyes, raised clasped hands to her chest, and shook her head. "Why...? Why now? Oh...Ike...Brother..." She opened her eyes and sighed at the ground. The girl followed Mordecai's trailing tail as he ran for the fort.

Gatrie's jaws clenched as his spear rammed through the man's neck. Killing was always unpleasant to many of the mercenaries present. Rhys turned and retreated to the wall where the wounded and the watcihng laguz sat, and Gatrie allowed his gaze to wander. He hadn't noticed the fact that his armor hadn't chipped at all. He noticed a freshly slain red wyvern and rider, then realized that he left his lance in the carcass's throat. Gatrie pulled it out and returned to the other bodies. Arrows had embedded themselves into the corpses, which only meant that Rolf and Shinon had feathered them. Shinon himself saw, not too far from the bodies, a fourth pair of Daein dimwits against Oscar, Boyd, Tormod, and Rolf.

Boyd had received moderate lance wounds and several crushed bones. Blood lined his axe -- which was on the ground -- and he was on his stomach, groaning. His body ached and a pulse throbbed painfully in his forehead. Sweat had formed in his hands, armpits, on his head, and he could feel it on his back. Boyd could feel his blood trickling from his wounds over his arms, from his back, and from his thigh. Tormod was brandishing his hands and hurling glowing balls of flame at the enemy. The spells were poorly aimed, so Oscar and his horse were to navigate around them whenever they hit the ground. Oscar's lance flew for the red wyvern's leg and it struck. His weapon slipped away as the creature growled and staggered off, seeming displeased with the thorn piercing its limb.

"Aiaf!" hollered Tormod, and he punched his outstretched hand forth. The orb of rolling fire over his head slammed down and engulfed the warrior and wyvern in an explosion of flame. He cheered delightedly, and Rolf (who had taken the time to carefully aim) struck the wyvern in the heart with a flying arrow. Their foe collapsed, falling over onto its side and crushing its yelling rider. Oscar lifted Boyd onto his bloodstained horse's back to ride him to Rhys, and Rolf raced over to follow his brothers. Meanwhile, Tormod beamed, then noticed a battle farther away. Like a fly to the light he rushed away to aid Mia and Marcia. Behind him, the leader of the vengeful wyvern band was facing Commander Ike, Deputy Commander Ike, and their staff officer Soren.

Unfortunately, both the regally armored man and the formally garbed wyvern were vicious. The banner that the master held was truly tipped with a polished silver spearhead. The wyvern's eyes were strikingly white.

They were high in the air, and in the claws of the massive black beast was poor terrified Soren, the talons digging into his waist from front to back, strangled by the wyvern's other hand. He was bleeding from where the claws gripped him. He couldn't breathe. His heart was pounding, racing with fright, his body shivered fearfully in the dangerous altitude and whipping winds, his hair and clothes lashed in the current, and he gazed at the cackling man above him with wide eyes. He could not hear much of the laughter over the gale.

But below, Ike and Titania heard him perfectly.

"No!" shouted Titania. "Soren, hang in there! Soren!"

"Blast," Ike snarled through gritted teeth. His knuckles were white from how tight his fists were. He glared up at the figure that glided to and fro in the sky, and Janaff casually approached with a grin and hands in his pockets.

"My cue, right?"

Ike turned his eyes on Janaff, alarmed yet grateful. "Yeah."

The hawk nodded, and suddenly his Phoenician clothing and human features receded into a body of brown and tan feathers, his head forming into a slim shape with a sharply curving beak, his arms vanishing, his legs thinning to narrow limbs, and a massive fan of feathers sprouting as his tail. He seemed to crouch before he abruptly sprung into the air, his wide wings carrying him into the sky. He swooped from one point to another as he quickly ascended, with the wind sweeping over his features and rushing into his fair. He was accustomed enough to flight that he needed not to squint.

Above, the wyvern grew bored of its squirming toy. Its hand released Soren's throat, but he was far too frightened to breathe, and just as he took a desperate gulp of air the wyvern lifted his wind-beaten body and chucked him down. The man pulled on the reins and his mount took a descending swerve. Soren glanced around wildly, thinking his heart would rupture, spinning as he fell. His rolling ceased and all he saw was the distant ground. He was going to die. Whether the Daein rider drove his lance through his ribs midair, or he reached the earth in a crash, he was not likely to survive. Claws seized him in the back. Soren winced, twisting his face and grunting. Suddenly everything blurred. His hair and black robes angrily whipped above him while something carried him back to earth in a lightning dive, something swifter than any wyvern. Blood flowed from his right nostril.

In a moment, he was back on his feet, trembling terribly and bleeding from several spots. He collapsed onto his knees and hands with a heavy sigh.

Soren heard Ike to his left. "Good work, Janaff!" He raised his head, noticing the staff he had dropped a good distance away, and resisted the ill urge to vomit on the ground.

Ike glanced up to see the black wyvern dashing down at him. He stood over Soren, his cape brushing over the spellcaster's back, and defensively raised Ragnell. As the sword's point threatened the approaching duo he heard the man snarl what was presumably a curse, and the wyvern turned, landing with a loud thud nearby. The earth shuddered.

Janaff shrieked and dove right for the rider's head. Marcia charged in from above, lunging with her lance. Ike sprinted for the fray, intending to bring the mount to its knees, whilst Titania leapt over Soren on a whickering horse and brandished her axe. Tormod flung a tendril of fire from a distance. Janaff, who had furiously punched at the man's armor with his talons, evaded the blows of the lance and fled from Tormod's spell. Marcia failed to penetrate the armor -- to her aggravation -- and also glided away. Ike and Titania met the creature's claws and roars with steel, but scattered. Soren shakily arose and retreated to Rhys's location. Smoke singed the air, the sun vanished completely, the fire's light replaced it, and the black beast was thrashing in the eruption as the man screamed. Ike noticed the wyvern leap out of the spell, now with a lame leg. He hurried in to finish the fight.

"Ike!"

The commander's eyes were pulled to the western exit where Mist stood. She was waving as a great blue figure bolted in. Mordecai rushed at the wyvern, roaring, and he caught the tip of its tail in the solid grip of his jaws. His opponent bellowed, turning to face him, as Ike took this opportunity to challenge the rider and flourished his weapon at the man's legs. The rider retaliated with two blind stabs, both with Ike sidestepped. Angered, his rival took a third stab, but Ike avoided this as well. His free hand yanked the lance away. Then he held it with both to Titania, who took the pleasure of snapping it in two with her axe.

An arrow whistled over his head. He glanced away to see the man topple off his mount's back as the wyvern continued to scold Mordecai, who still pulled on its tail. Ike raced around the beast to see he had rolled onto his back, the arrow in his chin. He glanced to the source to see Rolf aiming at the wyvern and Shinon nodding proudly behind him.

"Just surrender now," said Ike as he glanced down, his expression hard. "We'll heal you up and let you go."

"Never!" snarled the warrior. His face screwed in pain as he spoke, and he was breathing harshly. "You Crimeans shall not soil my glory!" He appeared that he would sob soon after, but Ike took no notice.

"We're just mercenaries. Come on..."

Ike was in mid-kneel, his arm outstretched in a gesture to aid the man, when Soren appeared without warning. He had not recovered from his brush with near-death. He was still shivering. Soren frantically removed the man's chestplate without allowing him to rise, tossed the strip of armor aside, and Ike was gripped with dread as a flashing stiletto was drawn from its scabbard. It was a knife of wicked design, a knife that Soren stabbed at the screaming man's heart countless times until the howls faded and blood flecked his hand and pitch-black sleeve. His other hand gripped the rider's throat, which had nailed him to the earth. Now, Soren slowly looked at gawking Ike's race, his eyes burning with anger and revenge -- eyes of the same color as that which stained the grass, their armor, their clothing, the corpses and their skin, eyes that seemed to belong to a laguz monster full of provoked bitterness -- and then those eyes flickered back to tired little beorc Soren, little half-blood faking his identity, his frail sage unfit for the rough life.

Ike was suddenly aware of the wyvern behind him.

"What'll we do with it, Boss?" asked Mia. Ike glanced at them, seeing Mordecai still seizing its tail.

"Just...get rid of it..."

He closed his eyes as Titania raised her axe.


	3. II :: A Cemetary for a Home

**Chapter 2: A Cemetary for a Home  
**

"I can't thank you enough, mister..."

"Ike."

The group had gathered within the large lobby of the fort. Corpses and broken weapons littered the field beyond the entrance. Absent from the gathering were Soren, who was resting in a couch within the adjacent western room, Makalov, who was being lectured upstairs by his younger sister Marcia, and one of Zelia's swordmasters. The mercenary who was once Mia's opponent was pacing impatiently at the entrance, awaiting departure with his eyes to the ground. The horses had retreated to the stables with a pegasus among them. Everyone stood or swayed in the fort, the two mercenary companies exchanging thanks and good biddings. Rhys gently tapped his staff against the foreheads of the wounded, humming prayers well-versed and observing their cuts and scars as they sealed, proudly smiling in his friendly way before proceeding to the next disabled combatant. Zelia shook hands with Ike. The commander noticed how delicate the skin of her hand felt against his rough palm, and his hand drew away uncertainly, but the girl seemed to take no notice as her face beamed gratefully.

"I'm...just glad that no one had to die," said little Zelia, and she turned her head to Deryl, who nodded contently himself. His silver helmet no longer concealed the features of his long hardened face and allowed his mess of black hair to feel air.

"War is brutal," Deryl reminded the young thief. "Even if it's one battle for us mercenaries."

"Why are you mercenaries anyway?" asked Ike for sheer curiosity. "You don't look like the type to be involved in this kind of work."

"Speak for yourself!" said the axeman with the black hair, brown skin, and wide black eyes. "You're a real sight to see, you know? You've got cavalry and magic people running around in fancy robes that don't belong to the hard life." He grinned heartily and put his fists against his hips. "We're in this business 'cause we all didn't really have a life. Couldn't find jobs. Couldn't get money. Stuff like that."

"Hm..." replied Ike in a contemplating manner, "I think our people are like that too."

"Yeah," leapt in Boyd. "Peewee, Oscar, and I -- "

"Brother...!" whined Rolf irritably.

"Well, we didn't have parents to look to, so we were lucky when the Greil Mercenaries found us."

"Cool. My parents were louts. Lazy." The man frowned and shifted his weight onto his right foot. "I had to join these mercenaries to get money for them."

"Henry..." Deryl muttered to the warrior, and Henry just grinned again.

"What? It's totally true."

Mist glanced around, her thoughts lost in the great swarm of mercenaries. The Greil Mercenaries stood in the northern parts of the room, and Zelia's group had settled in the southern half. Rhys emerged from their side just after healing a still-unconscious warrior. His healing staff led him along, but he went not to Ike, but rather to the room where Soren lay silently. Rhys assumed that the sorcerer was asleep.

_"MAKALO-O-O-OV!" _howled Marcia above their heads. _"You stupid -- half -- WIT! When you see a lance three inches from impaling my head, you're supposed to save me, not scream like a little girl and gallop into the enemy!"_

"I-I'm sorry!" Makalov cried over the hysteric outburst. "I didn't know that you wanted me to say that! I just thought you were asking -- "

"What kind of knight are _you!_"

" -- about how I do things -- "

"I could've died because of your stupidity, you -- "

" -- in battle, I didn't know you wanted me to say 'rescue you' instead -- "

" -- son of a fool drunkard moron twit -- "

" -- of 'charge at the enemy' -- "

" -- who is not my father or mother -- "

Everyone was silent amidst the loud hollering upstairs. No one moved.

Next door, Soren was basically acting as though he was in a coma. It was an attempt to ignore the shouting. Rhys checked Soren's wounds, tugging the blanket away from him gently and glancing through the blood spots in his robes. There were no tears in the fabric, it seemed. He winced at every word that was screamed in the form of Marcia's voice.

" -- _STUPIDEST THING I HAVE EVER HEARD _-- "

"Don't kill me, please!"

"OH, I WON'T KILL YA, I'LL_ SLAUGHTER _YA!"

Echoes and silence became the finale of the round. Everyone continued to stare at the ceiling, some bewildered, others amused, but when they heard very hesitant footsteps, it was then they decided to trade different expressions and looks. Ike wasn't doing that. His head was in his hand, and he sighed as he pinched his forehead with his thumb and finger. "Someday...those two..."

A few quiet conversations arose. Boyd had decided to affiliate himself with Henry, while two swordmasters were consumed in talk with Janaff. Others either remained quiet or exchanged comments with random people.

"...Um...anyway," interrupted Zelia, and Ike lowered his hand to look at her with respect, "thanks for understanding."

"Of course. We're veterans of war."

Zelia nodded loosely, and she turned to face her own comrades. Boyd retreated into the Greil Mercenaries while the two swordsmen and Janaff separated. "Well, is everyone ready?" All nodded eagerly and a few waved at the Greil Mercenaries. "All right! Let's go!"

There were scattered farewells. "See you around! May you be well! Good luck!" They all said such things as they departed, but the one impatient myrmidon simply scowled at the thief girl as they poured out of the fort.

"Soren, it's quiet now," Rhys whispered to him, but he simply continued to hide his face in his arms, his ears forced against his shoulders. "Soren?" The bishop cautiously poked Soren in the back of the head. He gained no response except for a small twitch. With a silent sigh, Rhys tried to check the wounds again, noticing how they had sealed a bit. It would be bothersome to leave them nonetheless. It was also inconvenient when one did not attend to wounds immediately, so oftentimes it daunted the effects of healing magic and may even tweak them. Rhys rose to full height and strode toward the wall where the doorway was, and where his staff sat against the wall. He glanced to the couch. Its back faced him and the doorway.

The Greil Mercenaries parted, scattering into different areas with different thoughts in mind. Ike's voice followed them as it rung through corridors and chambers. "Rest up, then meet outside for burial! We can't have carcasses rotting on the lawn!"

"Lawn," Boyd chuckled to Rolf.

"Hoo, boy!" cried exhausted Mia and she flopped down onto the lobby couch, stretching her arms above her head. "Some fight, huh? I wasn't expecting you to let those guys run away either, Boss!"

"They're another family," said Ike with a shrug. "They deserve to live."

"Yeah, I guess. But," she added, and a frown traced her lips, "where'll they get money now?"

Ike contemplated, then said, "If they're not afraid of lying they can say we're dead. We're in Crimea and their employers are in Daein anyway, right?"

"Hm..." Mia stared at the ceiling thoughtfully. "Hey, yeah...they can make a getaway with the loot!"

"I'm just glad it's not us."

Rhys tapped his staff on Soren's side and repeated the incantation of healing. He held it for a moment, waiting for the wounds to retreat, estimating how long it would take. He felt his pulse slow a bit and every beat was an annoyance to the senses. When he predicted the gashes would be gone, he lifted the staff away and carefully knelt down, inspecting the blood spots in the robes again. The wounds were indeed gone.

"There you have it!" he said with a kind smile, and Rhys then strode out of the room in a happy gait. Soren lifted his head. He still felt rather sore in some spots. Soren yawned and relaxed his shoulders, though he attempted not to fall asleep in the couch, and he snatched the blanket from the floor and clutched it like a dragon guarding a valuable horde. He stuffed his face in the brown fabric and curled up. Although he was completely still, he was perfectly awake and was listening for any voice that drifted through the room, sensing not a single forlorn thread of air throughout the fort and knowing only the optimism of his fellows. He did, however, notice one strange emotion in the atmosphere. His ears detected the cross muttering of someone nearby. He couldn't recognize the voice in its murmured state.

Titania wandered the hallways on the upper floor, still garbed in full armor though she wore no helm like Oscar did. Her mind was lost in a labyrinth of thoughts. She wanted to know what would become of them, now that it seemed that Daein was in a pathetic condition and there were no news of what Apostle Sanaki would do with it. As she followed the wall and path of windows, she heard the sudden movement of nimble feet, and Ranulf and Lethe dashed past her in a wild race of speed. Titania promptly halted to watch Lethe trying to grab at Ranulf's tail. Apparently, the orange cat was displeased with the blue cat and was trying to rip his rear spine from the main spine. Titania simply stared after them with a soft smile. "Cats," she said amusedly.

"Little one! Little one!"

Tormod was missing and Muarim could find no trace of the boy.

"Little one!"

"Trying to run off with some grub," said Gatrie as Muarim dashed around the corner and stopped. Gatrie was holding the little sage by the back of the collar. Tormod was lowered onto his feet and he gasped for air, rubbing his throat. He whirled around to glare at the knight.

"You didn't have to do that!" said Tormod angrily.

"Yeah, but it's _our_ food, and it's not even dinnertime. No snacks, alright?"

"Little one," Muarim said again, not knowing what to say. "I was concerned, I thought that you were kidnapped or..."

"Huh? You couldn't smell me out?"

Back down in the lobby, Oscar was contemplating toward the doorway to the western room. He was considering whether or not Soren would tolerate his entrance. He examined his thoughts and opinions for a moment, then analyzed what situation might be current before convincing himself to walk in. He had nothing else to do in particular and thought it would help to see Soren. Oscar walked in, his footsteps quite obvious but his stride proper, and he knew that Soren's ears were immediately focused on his presence.

"Hello, Soren."

"Oscar."

"How are you doing?"

"Better."

Oscar was aware of the one-word replies and the manner in which Soren spoke. He assumed the boy had buried his head into a blanket, apparent from the slight muffles. Hoping to stir the young man into conversation, Oscar ambled around the couch and knelt by him, smiling as ever with that permanent squint in his eyes. Soren raised his head with a slightly blank expression.

"That worried me," said Oscar lightheartedly, "when you got carried into the skies. I don't remember a wyvern being trained to to that."

"It was an intimidating tactic," Soren replied quietly.

"You were scared?"

Remaining quiet, Soren simply stared at the green-haired man with his obscure crimson eyes.

"I'd be as well if I were way up there. The only few of us who are used to such heights are Marcia and Janaff."

"Mm...I overheard Janaff saying something about, 'Uncle Janny.' Mind explaining?"

"Er..." The expression on Oscar's face simply made Soren curious as his gaze focused even more.

Ike inspected Ragnell's blade, rubbing a spot of blood with his thumb. Whether they were hunting or out in battle, he would never be given rest to clean this sword. It was bothersome. Ike shook his head, wondering how many times he would have to wash his weapon and slightly envying the ability to command magic. At least sages and bishops didn't have to clean _their_ weapons. Yet Mist, being a cleric on the back of a horse, had to wash her own blade whenever it was dirtied with filth. Mia watched as her fingers tapped against the couch at her sides in boredom. She blew several strands of her bangs away from her forehead. She could see, upon regarding Ike's rather stiff expression, that he was irritated. Being a fellow swordfighter, she could understand. Mia grinned anyway.

The two heard a thud from the upstairs floor, and both glanced up in alarm.

"Gyurrrh!" Lethe snarled as she wrestled with Ranulf. The two rolled in fury, Lethe's hands closed around Ranulf's throat, Ranulf's hands trying to free him. They slammed into the wall, Lethe against it. She kicked away and sent them barreling into the other wall, now Ranulf pinned against. The cat woman's face was twisted with total determination. Her purple eyes drove into the expression of the pained blue warrior, who swung his head from side to side and writhed beneath her grasp. In an instant he banged his forehead against hers and Lethe lunged to the side, leaping on her feet with her hand on her new bruise. Ranulf sat up along the wall and panted. A smirk formed upon his lips.

"You're getting better," he commented, and shakily arose, supporting himself against the wall. "Care for another round...girl?"

Lethe yowled and dove at him.

"Things are just chaotic today, aren't they?" Ike muttered as he listened to the voices. "We just walk out of a battle and now everyone's teasing each other."

"It's the morale!" said Mia. "Everyone's happy! I'm happy, they're happy, you're happy..."

"What makes you think I'm happy?" Ike blinked at her. Mia blinked back, a bit baffled.

Oscar, meanwhile, had achieved conversation. He and Soren were actually speaking to one another without pause. Soren turned his head aside with something that sounded like a scoff, though his relaxed expression could not be read. "Laguz..."

"Yeah. I still find it hard to call him 'Uncle Janny', even though he's much older than me."

"I can't say I could. When an individual with the appearance of an age similar to yours, it just sounds illogical."

"Right! Say, um...Soren..." Now Oscar sounded rather hopeful. This attracted the sage's attention. "Could I get your opinion on something?"

"What?"

"Do you think our triangle attack is effective?"

Soren contemplated for a short moment, recalling and conjuring certain situations in his mind. The three brothers had used their archery combo to quickly bring down powerful foes, such as towering dragons or threatening ravens. Whenever the time was inconvenient for others the three brothers would instead rush in and rain arrows. "Only for a single elite unit. We're too bloody skilled to waste our talents as three on one, most of the time."

Oscar was amused, his smile spreading wider. "Oh...that doesn't sound like you."

Immediately, Soren lay down again. "Then perform an exorcism. Maybe I'm possessed."

Rhys was dashing through the corridors in search of Janaff. He was hoping to ask about Ulki. As he did, his robes fluttered past Mist, who was standing by a window with a dreamy air about her. He stopped out of concern and turned, his thoughts dissipating.

"Mist? Are you okay?" the bishop asked the girl. A mildly astonished face replaced her previous look and she spun around. Then a smile lit her face.

"Yup! I'm just happy that everyone's okay. I was also glad that the other mercenaries were okay, too!"

"Alright, then," Rhys replied in relief. "You just seemed distracted. Would you happen to know where Janaff is?"

"Nope. Sorry."

"That's okay. I'll find him myself."

Rhys turned and dashed off once more, allowing Mist to return to her mind. She watched the darkening sky and wondered where the moon was. Perhaps all of those massive clouds were hiding it.

Rolf was roaming alongside Boyd. "Brother, I'm hungry."

"So am I, squirt. I wonder when dinner'll be ready."

Ike glanced back at Mia, walking back and forth in the same pattern over and over again without failure of repetition, wearing an expression of study now. "What's taking them so long?" There was a note of anguish in his voice. Mia was not smiling strongly anymore. She had grown rather tired of it. She yawned, the darkness coming over her senses.

"Ahh...I don't know."

Perhaps the others had forgotten. Drawing in breath, the commander prepared himself for the reminding announcement. Fresh air filled his lungs. Soon, his voice was flooding the fort once more. "Hey! I said rest up and meet up here for burial! Do I need to say it a third time?"

There was some hesitation evident, but mostly the scurrying of feet could be heard. Ike noticed the lack of armor clangs. They must have removed their garb to remove the burden of weight. Ike glanced over himself and realized that he had not bothered to change -- nor had Mia, but she wore no armor in particular, and there was no difference between her battle garb and casual clothing when it came to weight. Suddenly a dim light came into the room. Ike and Mia turned their heads to see Mordecai lighting the cheap wax candles in their black framed torches. There were two on the sides of the northern doorway, one on the right of the western doorway, and one on the left of the eastern doorway. Mordecai held a small stick in his great hand. Neither of them knew where the flame came from, though Tormod had lighted it for him.

"I am sorry, Ike," said Mordecai as he lit the western torch. "Should I stop bringing flame to the candles?"

"No, it's very much appreciated Mordecai," replied Ike, noticing the improvement in Mordecai's speech. The tiger nodded and proceeded to light the northern torches.

"So spirits can actually...?"

"Yes, but only empowered ones."

Soren and Oscar had not ceased talk ever since they began several minutes ago. Oscar was now facing the fireplace across from the couch while Soren continued to rest on his back, his blanket over him.

"That's...chilling. I wouldn't want my body to be under the control of a wandering soul."

"More than not," Soren added in a rather dreadful manner, "it is an angered or agonized spirit. But they remain rare and there have only been rumors. I'd say there's not a single spirit strong enough to do as they used to preach back then."

"They? As in bards and troubadours?"

"Yes."

Oscar frowned at the empty fireplace. "I'm glad they're not around anymore. It's astounding how much you can learn from books."

Soren's fingers began to fiddle with one another. He, beneath the shade of the couch's back, was hidden from the illuminating candle. "Yes..." Now he wound a lock of his untied hair around one of his fingers, allowing the strands to pull away only to wrap them in a bind once more. The two remained this way for a few silent moments. Soren sensed unease in Oscar, and there was no doubt why.

"Well..." Oscar began, and he stood in a slightly groggy manner, "I should get into the lobby. I don't know if you're good to go, though. Those talons dug in pretty deep."

"I am somewhat sore."

"I'll tell Ike, then. It was nice to chat." Oscar forced a polite smile before departing. Soren merely continued to meddle with his hair. The light, being unable to reveal him from the shadows, passed over the top of the couch so that his face was concealed. His face was freed of blood during the battle against the wyvern riders. He had wiped it away before brutally assailing the commanding rider, but it did not stop until just a bit after that. He recalled how he had to keep sniffling. Soren's robes were dipped in blood at the bottom from dragging through small pools and brushing over bleeding corpses. There were no apparent tears in his clothing. The claws of the black wyvern had possibly pierced through a miniscule hole in the fabric and penetrated the skin in this manner. His eyes were dull with exhaustion and drowsiness. Yet all he thought he desired to do was to sleep beneath the comfort of the warm brown sheet of fat cloth. He turned toward the rise of the leather settee and curled against it.

Marcia and Oscar were the only ones in armor while everyone else had either changed clothing or remained in leather. "Where's Soren?" Ike asked, but was quickly answered.

"He doesn't feel well enough to move," Oscar replied.

"Alright..." Ike's eyes snapped to Marcia. "Where's your brother?"

"Heck if I know."

The commander glanced around for a sign of the man before he glimpsed pink hair in the kitchen. Makalov was coming toward their way.

"Alright, let's all go. We need to bury those bodies. You all right, Mist?"

Mist was once again surprised by this sudden act of concern. "Hm? Mm...yeah." The lingering expression of thought remained, however, and Ike could only nod rather slowly. Mist knew that he could see this. "What? Don't give me that look, I'm fine!"

"Well, if you need anything...just let me know. Come on, everyone!"

Ike turned and departed, followed by the rest of the mercenaries and their guests.

Although it was mainly silent, Mist was under the illusion of there being chatter around her, for she had drifted back to pondering and did not realize that only the rustling of grass could be heard. In a circle went Boyd, undoubtedly bored, but she had no eyes for this. Black shadow reached across the ground as Janaff stretched his wings, yet she had not noticed. First, Mist thought of Father. She remembered how he would smile in her direction then suddenly turn stern and bark someone awake. She remembered the days when he would stare out the window when they had no job. Mist knew why he stared out those windows. She knew he was remembering Mother. She once used to think about Mother, wondering what she was like before she found Greil, wondering how similar she was to her. Mist could only know the graceful voice of her gentle mother, the soft sound of that old melody wafting without fear, without darkness throughout the rooms, seeming to fly for the skies whenever she sang. That song was the galdr of release taught by the heron Lillia. Now Mist wondered if Lillia looked similar to Leanne, with golden locks that gathered a holiness from the light, and a fair face that held a frail paleness. The herons seemed so resembling in appearance. Both Leanne and Reyson carried the white magnificent wings of a truly pure creature, and the gentle green of the forest was reflected in their eyes. She wondered how she would look if she was a heron.

"Boyd! No kicking the bodies," commanded Ike as Boyd aimed his foot at a man. Mist was suddenly pulled out of her little world. She glanced around at the carcasses and was suddenly aware of the smell of death. She was familiar with it, and yet it still unnerved the girl. She remembered the battles at their old fort. They were practically living on burial grounds, wherever they went. As the group dispersed to collect the bodies both wyvern and man to bury them, Mist stood only to watch, only to stare up at the skies and to gaze down at the ground. Living on the graves of people forced against them -- a horrendous idea to her. Mist played with the blue knot of her little cape. Her saddened eyes grew dim with sorrow for these victims of war. "I said no kicking the bodies, Boyd!" Ike yelled when Boyd ferociously swung his leg at a wyvern.

"Stupid, stupid animal..." said he as he turned away. Gatrie was attempting to lift the wyvern by his own but found he required Shinon's aid and Marcia's hand. Of course, this meant that he would attempt to impress her by lifting the majority of the weight, which he managed to do with his great muscles. A grin spread across Marcia's face. Even though Gatrie was no match for Ike's skills, he could still lift a wyvern with his two bare hands when Shinon was holding up the tail. The two tried to cooperate as they carried the wyvern out of the fort's inner grounds, following Oscar and Ranulf toward the southwestern edge of the forest. It was an area where the rising sun could beam upon the graves.

_"Boyd!"_

"Sorry!"

"Stop enjoying yourself and leave a little fun for me!"

Ike kicked Boyd in the heel, then strode off to swing a carcass over his shoulder while his friend hopped on his left foot and grabbed the other.

Tormod scowled at the air. "It stinks! Ugh!"

"Are you not accustomed to it, little one?" asked Muarim as he lifted a grey wyvern by the chest. Tormod nodded, but did not relax. He lifted the head as Lethe and Makalov reinforced the lower body and tail, and the four carried the heavy creature away.

Gatrie and Shinon dropped their wyvern on the ground with a thump.

"Up for another, big guy?" asked Marcia, and Gatrie chortled a bit as he sat down.

"I...could try..." he replied. It was not exactly a short distance between the burial spot and the fort's exit. Wanting to appear tough, nonetheless, Gatrie pushed himself back onto his feet and followed Shinon. But Shinon was not focused on burying another body. He was returning to the fort. His legs carried him past Boyd, who transported a limp body of armor in his arms, and he retreated into the walls of the building without completely noticing the lit torches on the walls.

Everyone was going about their business outside. They were moving the bodies first -- digging would come second. There was nothing worth stripping the carcasses of either.

Shinon found that he had led himself into the room with the dead fireplace. A few yards away from that fireplace would be the brown couch, and in it Soren beneath that brown blanket. His thoughts flickered back to the scene when Soren had brutally put the Daein man to the knife. Shinon personally had conspiring thoughts about the boy. Soren didn't even behave like a boy, his manner was beyond such an age, his maturity surpassed his own. Shinon could not decide whether he hated Ike more, or Soren more. Soren was always the commander's little obedient pet. He had no life. He was always being so superior for the commander, but if Shinon was leader, things would swing around in a snap of his fingers. But no, little Ikey had to take over, and now he was stuck with people he loathed -- little upstarts like Ike and smart whelps like Soren. People who were always seeking to snatch glory away from him, he thought. When Shinon stood at the door, he knew Soren was listening. Soren knew everything.

Shinon sneered at the back of the couch. He couldn't bear being shoved along with these mercenaries, having no fame and no money, and he didn't even know how he was involved in the first place. Ever since Greil had fallen their company went entirely downhill. Shinon couldn't stop himself from suspecting that Ike influenced this somehow. He couldn't stop himself from believing that Ike, one way or another, had caused his father to die. He wouldn't be suffering little Ikey-wikey's commands if Greil still lived.

"So you got a little glory today," he said quietly, continuing to scowl darkly at the settee. "You jumped on the man like he was a dying piece of meat and slaughtered him. How'd it feel to take down a wyvern lord? Good?"

"What do you want...?" Soren sighed, pushing himself up onto his elbows. Shinon could not entirely discern his figure from the darkness but did see the shadow of his head. Shinon hesitated and was still for a few seconds, then began to float toward the couch, his thoughts desperately tumbling here and there in the silence. There was no sense, no fun, no life in the days of now. It frustrated Shinon. And he could not stop his anger at the apparent behavior of the little sage. Soren always thought he was so superior to them, so intelligent and swift. He was manipulating their every move from behind the curtain, all for himself, like it was a show that he was just waiting to get paid for. Nothing mattered more than himself. Yet Shinon did not know that Soren's thoughts were quite the opposite, that Soren thought himself no more useful than as their tactician and staff officer. Shinon glared down, wading through his blundering vexation, unable to escape the fury that was spawning from everything in his life that became unattainable. He soon forgot Greil, forgot Titania, forgot his reliable shield Gatrie, and could only think of Ike's glorious experiences and that shadow always following him. Now that shadow was on its own. It was stunned and drowsy, and it was sitting in front of him.

Soren shifted restlessly, tightening his grip on the blanket. He could see a few features of anger on Shinon's face, although the torch in the room thrust Shinon's shadow over him.

_Keep squirming_, thought the misguided archer as he noticed this. He simply stood there, gazing, his expression as stagnant as stone.

"Why don't we have shovels for this?" asked Boyd as he turned to Ike. "I mean, it's great and all that we've got laguz to dig for us, but it would be so much faster if..."

Lethe immediately stopped digging for a short moment, swinging her head around to Boyd and hissing. He flinched. Boyd failed to realize that Lethe did not appreciate the suggestion that the laguz were working for the beorc.

"What? Sorry!"

Ike shook his head. "You might want to watch how you word things around her..."

Shinon stepped around the couch, his legs swinging slowly and leisurely although he was nowhere near relaxed. Dread grew in Soren's gut yet he tried not to retreat into the blanket. "Get up," commanded Shinon, but Soren did not move. "I said get up." Knowing that the sage would be too busy contemplating to move, his hand suddenly flew at the blanket and snatched it away from Soren's stomach. Just as Shinon did this Soren rolled out and managed to slip around Shinon's legs, sliding to a crouch near the fireplace. His bangs flew in front of his eyes and cleared as he saw Shinon dive at him.

Soon it erupted into chaos, and no one was there to stop it. Soren had no opportunity to chant an incantation and thrust a dash of magic at Shinon either, for the sniper was darting around too quickly for a proper spell. He fled to the wall on his right. Red hair and narrow eyes came in his direction, a fist flying at his head, but he nimbly ducked from the assault. Shinon's teeth were gritted with concentration but his lips apart in fury. He aimed at him and sent a kick at Soren, but Soren allowed instinct to lead him as he launched to the right and rolled sideways back into a crouch. The spellcaster leapt to his feet with a push of his hands. He bent a knee when Shinon swung at his left shoulder, then rose to the left when a fist went at his right. Soren delivered his own rather clumsy punch at Shinon's stomach and the sniper leapt back. Shinon knew that Soren was never trained in hand-to-hand combat, just magic and knives. Shinon charged at the sage but noticed him turn and flee for the other wall. He crashed into his shoulder against stone, then pursued his rival, wanting to see his face bleed again. Soren swung back around just as he reached the other side of the doorway. He considered casting a spell for a moment, yet the best he could do was slip away from Shinon's clawing hands to avoid strangulation and jab a flattened hand into the stomach. It was his substitute for a knife. Shinon groaned and flung forward with a hand on his gut. He staggered back a bit as Soren ran back between the couch and fireplace. Shinon immediately chased him. Both could feel sweat form and their hearts racing, one intending to take as little damage as possible, the other desiring to inflict all of his rage with all of his effort. They dashed counterclockwise around the chair for a few moments, but Soren saw Shinon stop and he stopped as well, hesitantly watching the sniper's motions. Shinon feinted toward clockwise and Soren immediately went the same way, but Shinon reversed direction with sudden agility and pounced upon the startled spellcaster. They crashed to the ground and Shinon grunted with the two punches he sent at Soren's cheek. Both hits landed and Soren yelled through his teeth. The third attack came, but Shinon received a terrible pain in the knuckles. He didn't know why. He howled, throwing his head back, and when he looked down he saw that Soren's teeth had suddenly snapped upon his knuckles with such force that they began to bleed. Shinon pulled away and instead tried to slap the same side of his foe's face with the back of his hand. Soren writhed beneath his legs. He personally started to punch at Shinon's waist, but he lacked the strength to send a powerful blow and instead grabbed the wrist of the coming hand with his. Soren's fingers tightened on Shinon's wrist. He suddenly pulled back and his elbow hit the ground, thus he winced yet succeeded in pulling Shinon's weight off of his unhardened frame, also nearly achieving the goal of popping the arm's bone off the shoulderblade. Shinon hollered and scrambled for Soren's throat, but the sage was quick to scurry back onto his feet. He was about to flee the room. Shinon leapt at Soren's sleeve, nearly pulling him down, but instead hauled himself up and his other hand flashed toward the neck. Suddenly, Soren could find no air as the fingers closed and he was drawn toward Shinon. Soren began to panic instinctively. He tried in a frantic hurry to get away from his foe, doing anything to free himself -- thrust his elbow at a poor target, flail and struggle, pull the fingers off his throat, but his rival did not relax nor twitch. He felt another hand clutch his side and suddenly he was thrown into the couch. Soren screamed with shock. Both he and the couch toppled over, and they crashed to the ground with an awful thud and grunt. Soren rolled a few feet away from the chair. He dared not move, as he was a body now sprawled on its side, its face hidden beneath an arm. His free hair scattered over the cold floor. The torch's glow revealed Shinon's triumphant expression and his unmoving figure. He heard footsteps, his heart pulsating without cease, and grew quite anxious when the footsteps halted near him. A kick rushed into his stomach and he let out a pained moan.

"Is that all?" Shinon laughed, now proud of becoming dominant. "You're nothing without your magic!"

Soren tried to rise. Shinon watched, amused, and when Soren shakily came up into a crouch again, he suddenly planted his right hand into the floor and flung his body around in a circle. The attack knocked Shinon off his feet and crashing to the floor. Soren lifted himself back onto his feet during his spin, facing the northern wall, then bounded over Shinon, onto the top of the fallen couch, and down onto the other side quickly enough as to not topple it over. A terrible bruise turned black on his left cheek. On the other side, the archer was pushing himself into a stand, staring at the blanket that had twisted and flapped out against the ground. He glanced up, stunned by the sudden move, not registering that Soren had thrown all effort into swinging his body around like that with such speed. But now Shinon roared, thundered around the settee's left, and dove at the sage again. Soren assumed a retreating turn with his left arm around his chest, so as Shinon stumbled by he forced his elbow into Shinon's back. A yelp cut the air and Shinon fell. He twisted onto his back, grabbed Soren's ankle past the robes, and pulled. Shinon took no notice of the absence of Soren's sandals when he collapsed, only emitting a gasp of surprise as he landed. Shinon kicked Soren in the stomach even harder than before. The spellcaster yowled, clutching it while Shinon pushed himself back up. Soren came into a temporary rage brought about by the fray and snarled, flinging himself up onto his elbow. Shinon stumbled back as Soren suddenly pushed himself onto his feet in a rush of his robes and cape and tackled Shinon as furiously as possible. Saliva escaped his mouth in this rage. Now Soren was on top, biting as hard as he could into Shinon's arm with his eyes shut, and Shinon was hollering, trying to roll free of the persistent combatant. Whenever Shinon motioned left Soren would force him to the right. Whenever he motioned to the right Soren pulled to the left.

"Get the hell off me!" Shinon growled in anger, and punched Soren with his free hand. The sage rolled off, suddenly no longer raging, and he quivered as he lay beneath the shadow of the fallen couch, his hands twitching and his attempts to raise his head feeble. His eyes were wide and full of fright. Shinon slowly returned to full height, his stance loose and limp. He stared at Soren, astonished. He expected a cruel comment, not the faint whimperings of some hurt animal. Shinon was suddenly aware of what he had done. He saw the bruises, the wincing, and looked at his bleeding knuckles and arm. "D...damn. I really am dumb as a gnat." Shinon turned and fled the room, his shadow departing from the light of the torch, leaving Soren to curl under the settee and shake all over.

Soren was trying to hold back the tears of agony, as he had just suffered panicking adrenaline and hurt. He remained there for a while. He heard nothing. He heard nothing but his sniffles, his beating heart, and his labored breathing. Eventually he came onto his knees in a wounded manner. His arms appeared useless, but they were still able to move. Soren steadily but hesitantly looked up at the legs of the settee above him. He then returned his gaze to the ground, taking a sharp deep breath, and soon pushed himself back onto his feet. He grasped the couch's edge gently and drew it back properly on the floor. The blanket was now hanging over the top of the couch. Soren climbed into the couch, retrieved the blanket, and stuffed his hurting face into its cloth. He concealed himself beneath that blanket, wanting only to recover from it all.

_Well, well, lookee here. The little boy plays soldier...how sweet..._

Shinon had said that long ago when the group encountered him in a Daein fort.

_Your job's always been to use that big brain of yours. That's why you spend your time hiding behind Ike's apron. Isn't it, Soren?_

_Shinon. You were always dumb as a gnat, but... A first-class archer. I'll give you that. But with the power I now possess, it's probably in your best interest not to presume to know my strength._

_Hah! You're still a snotty whelp, aren't you? Get ready to die, little man._

But that day...neither of them did.

Meanwhile Shinon was seeking his room to hide away in. He raced down the corridors, rushing past Mordecai. Mordecai simply watched with the extinguished stick in his hand at Shinon. He was mystified at Shinon's hurry, wondering what could've caused this panic, before he suddenly registered the smell of blood. Concerned for the cynical beorc he followed him and dropped the stick.

Shinon had already found his room and shut the door with great force. Mordecai strolled towards the door, hesitated at its wooden surface for a moment, then knocked on it politely. "Is all well?" he asked in his uncertain voice.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"I smell blood."

"It's nothing, just leave."

"Are you sure?" Mordecai turned the doorknob and pushed the door open, allowing a sliver of an entrance to form. He peered through to see that Shinon was pacing back and forth quite restlessly. Shinon halted, glaring at him.

"I said I'm fine. Now leave me alone."

Mordecai blinked twice, then gently closed the door. Something had to be wrong.

There was only one other in the fort, and that was Soren. So it was to him that Mordecai would go.

"Heave..." Ike, Boyd, Rolf, and Titania were pushing the black wyvern into a massive and shallow grave. The laguz were exhausted and couldn't stand to dig any deeper for this great monster. Each sat in scattered locations as humans rather than animals. They watched as the four forced the carcass into the hole, the body rolling in with a thump, and they each took their moment of time to recover from their hard work. Titania was the one who glanced around at the areas where the dirt had obviously shifted. There seemed to be more graves than she had predicted. Makalov waddled over and began to kick at the pile of dirt that had collected near the hole in the ground, spraying earth over the body. Muarim decided to help, scooping earth aside with his hands and sometimes gathering it in them to toss into the gap. Mist had not dared to aid in the burial.

"Still don't look okay to me," Ike said as he panted a bit, focused on Mist.

"Ike! Stop bothering me. I'm fine, really."

"The smell of death is really thick," Ranulf mumbled and appeared to gag, grimacing. Mist turned her head away. She was not fond of that word. She never liked it. "It's always...urgh, blood and rot...and usually steel too, that makes it worse..."

"Yeah, it's pretty bad," Ike replied. "I'm sorry you have to go through worse."

"Ah well. We get used to it after a while."

Mordecai was standing next to Soren, peering down with golden eyes of concern. He was motionless, but Mordecai could hear his quiet breathing. The sage had hidden most of himself away in the blanket. "Soren, is all well?" he asked, kneeling down a bit, and when Soren said nothing he assumed that he had fallen asleep. Mordecai gently drew the blanket away from his face and saw the rather unsightly bruise. Mordecai's expression remained the same. He lowered his head, smelling something peculiar on Soren's breath -- the faint traces of blood. There had been a fight while he was distracted. Mordecai felt guilty for not hearing any sounds of struggle. He would've, yet he was so immersed in lighting torches and humming to himself that he had heard nothing.

Ike and the others retired to the fort, trudging up and down the few hills that stretched across the land and forests. The night air was refreshingly cool and welcoming for them. Lethe yawned, her cat eyes gleaming a shimmering green in even the most minute of lights. None of them exactly expected to see Mordecai racing out of the fort with an agitated tail.

"Ike!"

"Huh? What's wrong? What is it?"

"Soren is hurt and Shinon is bleeding."

"What?"

Ike, considering this alarming news, raced around Mordecai and into the fort, followed by a few more concerned beorc and Ranulf. He burst into the torch-lighted lobby of the fort and headed immediately for Soren's room. He knew that his staff officer would be in there. He expected the silence, but didn't expect to see that bruise when he hurried in and around the settee.

* * *

"Ike? Why do we have to fight wherever we go?"

Mist was watching her brother, who sat utterly exhausted in the lobby's couch. He lay in it the opposite direction that Soren did in the other room. His head was supported on a fist, which stood on its elbow, and he was rubbing his face over just to relieve a little stress. Ike peered through the space between his fingers at Mist.

"...That's easy. Too easy. It's because we're mercenaries."

"But...why are we fighting each other now?"

"Well...people always fight each other, even when they're friends."

"But I've never seen you fight with us!"

"Have you seen me fight with Father?"

Mist was baffled. Ike didn't seem to be reasonable to her whenever they discussed small things like this. That was what she thought.

"Ike, that's different!"

"No, it's not, Mist. I did argue with Father sometimes."

"Well, it's... It's just that... I was thinking."

"So I could tell."

"Brother, wherever we go, it's a graveyard."

Ike rested his hand now, exposing his face to the air. "Oh?"

"Mmhm. In our old home we always had to fight people on our grounds. And then those Daeins came and we never buried them because we had to run. But, it's just...well...um..."

Ike nodded slowly again. "Go on..."

"Well, when Rhys was teaching me how to use a staff, he talked about magic and spirits. And...oh, Ike, it's just...I'm worried. What if all those people we killed come back to haunt us?"

"Is that all?"

"Is that-is that all? What do you mean?"

"Mist, I don't think spirits can just pop up and haunt you whenever they want. We gave these people a respectful burial anyway. We didn't just dump their bodies into the river, right?"

Ike's sister stared down at her clasped hands and she shifted. "I guess..." Mist then glanced up. "But what if -- "

"Mist, don't worry. We have people who know magic. Magic comes from interaction with spirits. They can drive them away and we won't have to worry, alright?" Ike rolled onto his back and stretched out.

Mist stared down once more. "Well, okay. I still don't like it, though. I don't like living on a graveyard wherever we... Hey, wait a minute!" Her eyes snapped up again, just as before. "How do you know that magic comes from interacting with spirits?"

Ike's deep blue eyes shifted to her. "Soren told me once." He dared not to go any deeper into that memory.

"Yeah, sure. He tells you everything. Really, Ike! You always have an excuse!"

"Mist, I'm not lying, he really did tell me that." The young commander pushed himself up with his elbows into an upright sitting position. The tails of his headband swayed behind him. Mist impatiently bounced over and sat by him.

"But, but what if -- "

"Mist...relax."

She paused, still quite concerned, but she did as her brother advised and took a slow breath in. She released that bubble of air and felt tension leave her lungs, but it just didn't seem enough. Mist did it once more. She felt a tad more relaxed now that she had loosened her stress. The young cleric leaned back against the couch, becoming comfortable with where she sat.

"Thanks, Ike."

"Sure thing."

"Hey, Ike?"

"What?"

"It's not like you to get so comfortable after what just happened, especially since we just finished beating up some wyvern riders and knowing Soren and Shinon just had a fight."

Ike frowned, turned his head back, and stared up at the ceiling. "Well, um. See, about that, well..."

"IIIke..."

"I don't know." He really did not understand this feeling of relaxation. Ike himself was aware that he was usually a bit uptight after such experiences, but now he didn't have a care in the world. "I don't know," he said again in the same unsure tone.

"Ike...are you okay?"

He contemplated this question for a moment, then rested his head on the couch's arm. "...Funny. It's like something's wrong with everyone today."

"Huh? ...Well, would you look at that, you're right... Hey!" Mist lifted her head to the ceiling and cupped her hands around her mouth. "Tiiitaaaniaaa! Ike was right for once!"

"Mist? What are you -- "

_"Titania!"_

"Mist?" now Titania replied from above. "Did you just say..."

"Yeah! I did! He figured it out by himself!"

Ike suddenly sat upright. "You two didn't make a bet, did you!" he cried in shock.

"TITANIA!" Mist was screaming now. "He said something else right! Get down here, now!"

"I can't _believe_ you two!"

"What's with all the yelling!" roared Gatrie from somewhere else.

"I was trying to sleep!" howled Ranulf.

"Silence! All of you!" irritably screamed Lethe.

"You owe me, Titania, you owe me!"

"Curse it all Mist, what are you talking about?" asked Ike.

"Stop shouting, Boyd might wake up and blame me for doing it!" announced Rolf.

"Alright, settle down everyone, settle!" Hoping for quiet, Titania shouted in an attempt to silence the place.

Ike glanced toward the fireplace room. He didn't hear Soren stir nor grumble. "He must be in a really deep sleep," Ike mumbled, and Mist didn't hear him.

"Titania has to take me shopping at Crimea tomorrow," answered Mist with a grin. "We've got to find a tailor, too. She didn't want to though."

"Well, congratulations."

"But, still..." And Mist's little amused face fell away. "...I'm just worried about living here."

The commander paused to think. It wasn't simple enough to tell her that they could handle whatever came in their direction. Apparently, Mist was far too worried to accept that. Ike patted his sister's head reassuringly, praying that she would not badger him about this tomorrow. "I know. Now, wait here, we haven't gotten dinner yet."

"Ike? In the dark?"

"Oh, I'll just take some of the not-so-sleepy laguz with me. Beast laguz have pretty good eyesight in the dark."

* * *

Dinner was nothing special as breakfast was that day. Although the aroma of Oscar's cooking lingered on, and the weight of food in their stomachs was great, dinner was done and the visitors would depart in the night. Ike had to ignore Mist's constant rambles of how Soren would wake to hunger if they didn't feed him, but eventually, they settled on that he would be fine. Oscar did once say that Soren liked none of his cooking anyway. Marcia seemed lighthearted as she quickly packed as she was taught, yet something suggested that she was reluctant to go.

"I'm gonna miss ya, handsome," she said to Ike. "You too, big guy!" She smiled at Gatrie as he sheepishly rubbed his head.

Lethe was dragging the sleepy Ranulf out, almost by the tail. She had to push him along whenever his pace turned sluggish and even once pulled on his ear. The two were followed by Mordecai, who bowed his head to Ike and Mist. Tormod yawned while he sat upon the back of his tiger friend Muarim. Muarim glanced up at the others, as though saying farewell, and when Tormod managed to yawn a good-bye Muarim dashed away into the trees, the young spellcaster clutching his jade mane. Makalov waddled up to his horse but nearly fell asleep on its back.

"Buh-bye," he said to them all with a feeble wave. Marcia slapped her older sibling on the back. He jerked up, surprised, then took the reins and waggled them. His horse slowly took at a trot, hesitantly approaching the edge of the eastern forest before disappearing beneath the canopy, and Marcia mounted her pegasus to then soar off into the skies above him, her red gold-adorned cape lashing at the air behind her.

"Heya, bareback," greeted Janaff. He was referring to Ike, who had no wings. "I'm gonna wait 'til sun-up, as my vision is terrible in the dark."

"But Marcia's going and she's no good in the dark either," replied the commander.

"Yeah, but she's no in danger of getting mobbed by crows. She's got her lance with her, and what have I got? Talons that work only on one crow while I'm getting torn apart by four or ten others."

"Alright, alright, you can stay until dawn."

"Thanks!" Although Janaff was in his usual hunchback stance, he honestly seemed that he was unwilling to fly. "I'm gonna find myself a nice little perch now. Even a hawk has to sleep."

"Bye Lethe, Mordecai, Ranulf! Have a good time in Gallia!" called Mist.

Lethe muttered, "Pah..."

Mordecai waved in return.

Ranulf just mumbled incoherent words.

Titania watched the visitors all go, then turned to retreat to the fort. All of the mercenaries -- except Shinon and Soren -- had crowded at the entrance to watch their friends depart. She considered retreating to her own room at first, but as she glanced down at her white dress, she found herself striding into the fireplace chamber instead, and soon she was standing near Soren with her eyes drawn to the window right of the fireplace. Her gaze drifted to the back of his head. His hair had messily unfurled over the edge of the seat and scattered around the blanket. Soren was unusually still, but he certainly wasn't dead.

Soren and she always argued when it came to decisions.

_Whose side to take? We could never side with Daein! Unthinkable!_

_Captain Titania, we are human. Would you have us side with laguz against other humans? That is unthinkable._

But was it really of his own fault? He seemed to look to only the path that completely ensured the company's success and survival. Even so, they respected one another and argued basically on nothing else. Titania couldn't pull away from gazing at him. She knew dead nothing about the mage, only that he was staff officer, tactician, and harsh with his vocabulary. Perhaps Ike knew something of him. Soren never seemed to stray from Ike or Greil, after all, and now that Greil was gone, it was only in Ike he could possibly confide any secrets.

Titania descended to her two knees and placed her hand on his shoulder. To her great surprise he turned his head and she drew away. "S-Soren?"

"Mrf...Captain Titania..."

"Soren, don't mind me. I didn't realize you were awake."

"Oscar...burnt something."

"Um...what?"

Titania cautiously and slowly sniffed at the air, but it was a moment she had to consume in order to recognize the scent of burn.

"Oh...oh! You're absolutely right. I'll have to ask him about that." She hesitated with a smile, then assumed a concerned expression once more. The paladin thought that she would have to know him more. "Um...Soren."

"...Captain?"

"Oh, don't call me captain, we're not in battle!" She blinked at him in an effort to seem slightly stunned. "Although it brings me back to my days as a Crimean knight..."

Soren pulled the blanket over his bruised cheek. "Rrm...?" He hid the left side of his face beneath the cloth and rolled his head toward Titania on the couch's arm. He suspected something but only sensed sincerity from her.

"...Ages we've worked alongside each other. Funny how we still don't know each other, isn't it?"

"Mm."

"Oh, yes. The visitors have left, except for Janaff. He doesn't want to get mobbed by crows in the night, but I find it interesting that crows can't see in the dark either. How would they assault him in the night? It must be an excuse to stay a little longer."

Soren nodded in a numb manner.

"...I apologize. This probably seems like an excuse to talk to you. Well, I'll let you rest. I need to lecture Shinon."

Titania rose to full height and wandered back into the lobby. Soren's tired gaze followed her until she disappeared behind the couch, then he buried himself once more in the settee. He didn't notice the lifted weight of anxiety in him.

The others were already gathered in the lobby, although a few had retreated to their rooms.

"Alright," Ike yawned, now in casual garb like everyone else -- except, again, Soren. "Off to bed, everyone. Good night!"

Some mumbled back before they dispersed to retire to their beds.


	4. III :: The Queen Calls

**Chapter 3: The Queen Calls**

Soren had awoken far later than he normally would have. He was groggy and for the most part exhausted, as though he had never slept at all. The sunlight was strong through the two windows by the fireplace, the air was silent, and he didn't know why. Slowly he turned his head in an attempt to stir himself a little more. Normally the others would be awake at this time, he knew. But all was quiet. The air felt empty. His lips lifted apart to call out, but his cheek immediately stung and he shut his jaws immediately. Soren tried to tighten his curl in the couch, for he had sprawled out, but his stomach throbbed painfully and he winced, now becoming entirely still in the couch. He remembered no dreams. He didn't even know when he had fallen asleep. But he did remember Shinon's anger, and Titania's thoughtful voice.

He wanted to speak to her now. He wanted to say, _You're right. It's funny how we've worked alongside each other for months, and yet we don't even know each other. _Now he wanted to know what life was like for her when she was still a Crimean knight, wanted to know how her peers treated her for being a female warrior. Soren wondered where she was now.

The fort, to him, felt unusually hollow. Despite the agony, he endured the ordeal of pushing himself upright, and he held his breath until he was, releasing it in a long moan. Soren put a cold hand to his left bruished cheek. He bore a tacit expression of morose, not at all well nor jolly.

"Hi, Soren!" cried a girl's voice, and he recognized it as Mist's. Soren turned his head. The fort wasn't so empty after all.

"M...Mist..." he managed to say, but only turned away, clutching his cheek with aggravation. Mist's face of happiness turned into utter concern.

"Oh my gosh! Are you okay, Soren?"

He, not quite able to lie at the moment, simply shook his head. Mist patted the top of his skull reassuringly.

"Don't worry about it, okay? Me, Oscar, Rolf, and Boyd are stayin' behind to watch over you, okay?"

"H-hwhat?" he stammered, obviously startled, and looked at her. "The others...?"

"Well, the Royal Guard of Crimea came to tell Ike that Elincia wanted to see him. Sorry, Soren, but you woke up a little too late to follow!"

"He left..."

Mist seemed rather apologetic. "Mmhm. Ike knew you'd protest, so he left before you woke up. He says he's sorry."

Soren stared down at his hands and the blanket.

"Now don't move, mister! Oscar's making you something to eat."

* * *

Ike was seated upon the back of one of the group's horses, but he was never fond of horseback riding. He preferred to have his feet on the ground. Aside him was the loyal Crimean paladin Geoffrey, a close friend and advisor to Elincia, whose sense matched Oscar's but was easier to unnerve. Behind them rode the remainder of the Greil Mercenaries and a small portion of Geoffrey's platoon. Mia had to share a horse with Shinon, and although she was in the back enjoying herself, Shinon seemed rather ill.

"Are you sure you can't tell me now?" Ike asked over the wind, calling to the man in green armor. Geoffrey shook his head.

"No! You have to wait until you see Queen Elincia," he cried back through the wind. Ike grunted to himself. He wondered what the woman could possibly have in store for the group. In addition, he was going to this mysterious calling without his staff officer, but he could only imagine what consequences would come of that. He had also left behind several able-bodied fighters for the wounded mage. However, Ike reassured himself that whatever they were being summoned for, they would certainly be fine even with a few people absent. The horse's body rippled with speed beneath him. Ike had never given thought to whether or not the horses tired, as such concerns were the burden of paladins and knights such as Titania. It was several hours past that they had departed the fort. Surely, they would arrive soon as they galloped past the distant villages, chasing the northern horizons of Tellius afternoon.

Each mercenary felt the sting of the wind against their exposed faces. For some, they felt it whipping their hands as well, as though scolding them for hurrying so swiftly. Up rode Kieran in his usual boasting posture.

"What an honor to have you again this late morrow!" he declared happily. He held the reins in such a light fashion that he seemed like quite the professional upon the back of the white steed, his wide grin as mirthful as possible. Yet it was swept away with the fierce wind as his and Ike's stallions galloped alongside one another. "Where would your good fellow and my greatest rival be, though?"

"I left him back at -- "

"Then surely the man has backed out! The coward! The shame! The -- "

"No, he's staying to -- "

"Gain the benefit of slothful sleep, no doubt! Why I would -- "

"Oscar is -- "

"Not fulfilling his vows as a knight!"

"_Would you mind letting me finish? _We have someone back in the fort who requires rest. Oscar is staying behind with a few others in order to protect him while he is vulnerable."

"O-oh!" Kieran blinked hesitantly, stunned upon hearing this. "Yes, of course...of course... Erm, if you will excuse me!"

Kieran galloped off the the side, his crimson cape fluttering at his back.

Titania had assumed a position at the front without realizing it. Her mind had drifted whilst her hands guided her horse away from the main company. She was thinking of Elincia's reasons for calling for them, and she was convinced it was a serious matter. A queen was busy and could not take the time for pleasantries, especially amongst mercenaries. Elincia could not ask for them even if she desired it, and the only allowable motive for her to summon them was to call for mercenaries, not friends. It was possible that Daein could be involved.

Daein had attacked them yesterday after all.

"Faster, faster!" cried Mia, and Shinon clapped his hand over his mouth.

"I think I'm gonna be sick..."

"Sir Ike." Up to Ike came Lucia on the back of a brown mare. "Why does your group appear smaller than last? I am aware your original band was small enough, but you seem to be lacking in some members..."

Ike turned his head, noticing Lucia's aqua hair streaming behind her with the mane and tail of her steed.

"Well," he answered, "we've had to leave a few people behind. Someone needs to recuperate and I couldn't let him be without company or protection."

"Hm..." Lucia gazed at him, refusing to drift off. She held her calm blue eyes and Ike stared back questioningly. Then a smile flitted across the swordwoman's face, and she took a moment to peer at all who galloped behind them. "That person wouldn't happen to be your tactician, would it?"

"Huh?" Ike raised his eyebrows a bit. "How'd you know that?"

"If it's not your tactician who needs rest, then surely he'd be here. A staff officer is vital to every mission."

"Mission?"

"Oops! I seem to have slipped the wrong word. Goodbye, Sir Ike! I will be in the back."

Lucia's horse slowed considerably as she pulled with light force on the reins, and Ike could only watch her. He considered slowing his stallion as well. But even he knew that would've been too obvious of him. Ike, wanting to prove he could endure the pain of waiting for an answer, proceeded to let his horse ride as swiftly as it always had. Then he saw Titania at the front. Ike watched her horse, its tail whipping in the air, and noticed her braided red ponytail lashing anxiously. The young commander pulled his steed's reins. He rode past Geoffrey, who observed him curiously, and joined Titania's starboard side.

"You look distracted," he commented loudly enough to be heard. The paladin's eyes glanced to him.

"Oh, Ike."

"What are you thinking about?"

"I was just wondering why Elincia could be calling for us. She, being queen, would be often too busy to ask us to come, especially considering the formal manner in which the Royal Guard had spoken. She must have a task in store for us."

"I wondered. Lucia mentioned something about a mission."

Titania nodded flatly, listening to the pounding of horse hooves against grass and hardened earth.

* * *

"Why do_ I _have to stay behind...?" Boyd mumbled to himself, speaking at his thumbs. He was holding his curled hands in front of him.

"'Cause it's not the same without the three of us together!" exclaimed Rolf. "I thought Mist would need me to stay behind to protect her and Soren."

"I doubt Soren will want to depend on...well..." Oscar lowered his voice so that only the brothers could hear. "...Mist's cooking..."

"Doesn't he hate yours, though?" asked Boyd.

"Well, yes, but if you ever saw the expression on his face when he stared down at a plate of Mist's cooking..."

Mist was kneeling next to Soren, attempting not to gaze at the bruise on his cheek. "So, now that you're stuck here, what are you going to do? Nap all day?"

Soren numbly turned his head away.

"Okay, that's a no. Do you ever do anything in your free time besides meditate, Soren?" Mist inclined her head curiously, peering at him with her blue eyes. Her eyes appeared the exact opposite of Soren's, yet she had never noticed. Soren did. His were cold as steel and red as blood, whilst hers were warm with forgiveness and blue as the free skies. So much could be said in eyes, but not many bothered to peek into them to distinguish their contents. Soren did. He watched everything, noticed everything, because he never allowed his mind to drift. He was raised in such a way that he could never allow his thoughts to wander. He was always staring at something -- and when he was wondering, it was over a memory from the past. Soren never understood happiness or enjoyment. He didn't recognize the feeling nor acknowledged it. All he knew was that it existed in others. Soren doubted that relief was the same as happiness as well. He hid away from Mist, avoiding her gaze, avoiding her blue eyes so that she would not know he was thinking.

"I can recall nothing," he replied quietly.

"Aw, that's so boring."

Mist, fortunately, was talking to a non-aggressive Soren.

* * *

The sun had risen a bit since their departure, and a mass of exhausted horses trotted weakly into Melior. Almost everyone could feel their mounts' legs trembling beneath them. Quick to dismount, each rider took the reins of their steed and walked alongside them along the streets of Melior, and everywhere they glanced there was a crowd of people doing one thing or another. Melior's marketplace was always so busy. It had been only a year since they last liberated Crimea. But so much progress was achieved, for laguz and beorc placed their skills together to rebuild Crimea and restore her vast golden glory. Ike let out a relaxed sigh. The new peace was actually somewhat startling, yet it gave him great joy to see beorc and laguz, Crimeans and Gallians going back and forth in one place without dispute. He turned his gaze to Titania. Her expression seemed to suggest the same thing, even through those unmoving lips.

In many occasions they would hear Shinon mumbling something about "sub-humans", but he had turned silent on them months ago. Now Ike was unable to tell if Shinon was glaring at the Gallians or just looking to see what they were up to. Gatrie was humming to himself, but no one would be surprised if he had eyes for some woman nearby. Rhys appeared at peace. A young child with yellow cat ears ran up to him, her tail flicking happily.

"Hi!"

Rhys looked down and smiled. "Oh, hello."

"I've seen you before, mister," said the girl, tilting her head. "I saw you in Gallia once!"

"Oh, you did? How nice of you to remember."

"Sweetie," called out a woman who had identical features to the child. She dashed up and put her hands on her daughter's shoulders. "I'm sorry, sir. Is she bothering you?"

Rhys blinked and frowned. "No, not at all! She's a very sweet child."

The woman let out a sigh. "That's good. I was worried that..." She looked up and put on a small smile. "Well, thank you anyway." The laguz gently pulled her daughter away.

"Byyye," said the girl as she waved at Rhys. The priest could only wave back and smile again.

"Looks like you're getting along fine with them."

He turned around in response to the man's rather haughty voice. Kieran was smirking at him, looking as bold as ever with those fists on his hips. "I'd think you would do fine living in Crimea! Why are you a mercenary, Rhys?"

His expression shifted to surprise. "W-what? I...well, I like my job, and..."

"I could always get you a job at the castle," offered Kieran, and he elbowed Rhys in the side a bit. "What say you? Eh?"

"Um...I can't just abandon my friends, and...well..."

"Oh, but you get only so much money in very few convenient moments!" Kieran straightened his back, now one arm limp.

"But, but I wouldn't leave them just for more money."

"Oh really? Just like ol' Oscar, eh..."

Kieran headed along, leading his horse. Rhys watched him in a rather confused fashion before he too took his horse's reins and walked on. Mia bounced after him, needing to guide no horse, for Shinon was doing that for her.

Geoffrey heard as Mia shouted, "HIYA, RHYS!" as the top of her voice and then a thud on the ground. He glanced over his shoulder to see Mia had tackled the bishop in an attempt to hug him. "Sorry," he could hear Mia say before she got off of Rhys. The two went into conversation. Geoffrey turned his attention back to the streets before them, quietly meandering on as he listened to the soft clops of his white stallion's hooves behind him.

Such took place as the group proceeded on to Melior's grand castle, depositing their horses at the gates while Geoffrey and his followers placed theirs in the stables. Through the gilded gates they went and up the stairs they climbed to the great doorway where they would enter the castle. There would be no moat, as the castle was within Melior atop a small hill, standing a fair distance away from most of the homes and the marketplace, connected by a single street of grey cobblestones. The mercenaries were led into the building where many servants weaved back and forth through its royally designed hallways. It appeared that much effort was put into this place. They all followed along green carpets outlined in gold, proceeding up several stairs and from time to time exchanging greetings with a guard or servant. Ike grew tired of walking around in such an elaborate place. He sighed, wondering why nobles had to be so fashionable with their homes, and the air grew thin as they ascended into the higher floors and through a doorway in the north. They climbed more stairs in a tower, receiving a bit of a complaint from Shinon, and then into a chamber with a doorway leading south onto a balcony.

Elincia turned her head as a group of people entered from her right. She sat in her throne, patiently awaiting their arrival, and as her Royal Guard and the Greil Mercenaries gathered in front of her they all kneeled respectfully. Titania had to pull Shinon down a bit and Rhys needed to tap Mia on the side of the head to remind her.

"Stand," she commanded gently, and so they all did. Elincia blushed a bit. "My lord Ike..."

"What?" he said with a bit of a grin. "Still can't get used to being a queen?"

"I just find it a tad awkward whenever everyone suddenly bends to my word," she explained sheepishly, and her feminine hands began to fiddle with one another. "I had never thought that royalty was treated with such...um..."

"Obedience?" he offered.

"Well..."

"Yeah, I know. It's weird making people do things for you when they don't want you to do anything." Ike stared at Geoffrey, who only looked clueless. "So, how are you?"

"Excuse me, sir Ike," interrupted Lucia before Elincia could answer, "but we are here on an important situation. Pleasantries will have to wait, I'm afraid."

"Oh, that's right." He glanced down at the foot of Elincia's throne. "So what's up?"

The queen was quiet, staring down at her lap. As Ike looked up he could see she was a bit lost in thought, in concern. The sunlight beamed into her room, casting its light upon her long green hair. The commander peered at the white tiara around her forehead. He was brought to attention as she raised her head.

"My lord Ike, reports have come in that Daein is acting suspicious."

"Yeah, some of their wyverns even attacked us the day before. I think we're still sore."

"Really?" She drew back at this. "Oh, I am very sorry for calling you..."

"No, no," Ike answered, and he shook his head. "It's fine, it's the burden of a mercenary. So what of the report?"

"We have caught hint that they will attack us at night." She appeared to relax, yet the news that passed her lips still disturbed her. "Along with more of those..."

When Elincia stopped, her expression thoughtfully on him, Ike said, "Those...what?"

"...Laguz."

"Laguz? Feral laguz?"

She nodded dimly. Titania's gaze strayed to some other wall. Ike knew what was drifting through her head, because the same thoughts were in his.

"So let me guess. You need us to guard the place when the attack happens."

Elincia nodded. "I do, and perhaps a few others may accompany you if they are not busy. Shall I recommend Geoffrey and his unit?"

"Of course, Your Highness!" answered Geoffrey with a step back and a bow of his body, a flourish of his hand, and the swift return to his tall posture. The knight always had a proper motion. Elincia couldn't help but giggle, her hands together at her lips and round chin.

"Oh, Geoffrey..."

Ike glanced between the two. _They'd make a good couple._

"So what until then?"

"You and your comrades may stay in the castle," answered Elincia, smiling as she settled her hands. "Someone may be able to show you to your rooms. Um, perhaps..."

And as she was contemplating over her guard, someone suddenly burst in with a dramatic shout.

"_I shall be the one to guide, my fair queen!_"

"Oh! Count Bastian! Perfect!"

The sage twirled into the room and stood behind them, bowing just as Geoffrey had though a tad clumsier. "Good Ashera has blessed us once again with the presence of our noble hero, sir Ike! Prithee, canst thou promise our beloved Queen Crimea that you will find us victory again?" Before Ike could say anything or protest, he rambled on, "A fine day this shall truly be! Come, my good fellows, and I shall show you to your luxurious rooms!" He spread his arms out, spun away, and practically danced out of the room. Everyone exchanged awkward or amused glances, though Elincia was giggling to herself and Lucia was smirking.

"Uh...okay... Let's go, mercenaries." Ike led his fellows out the door after Bastian.

"Wait, my lord Ike."

As everyone shuffled past him, Ike stopped and glanced over his shoulder. "Yeah?"

"Could you...accompany me for a while?"

"Uh, sure?"

"I-I apologize if you'd rather..."

"No. No. It's fine." He went to her, wondering if she was lonely most of the time. Ike seated himself at her feet, legs crossed and drawn. He watched as she stared in various directions, looking as though she knew not what to say, her hands as nervous and restless as any anxious girl. "...Elincia?"

"Hm?" She glanced at him.

"...How are you?"

"Oh! Um, I'm...I'm well. A-and you?"

"Swell."

"That is good..."

"...How's business?"

"Busy. And you, Ike?"

"Violent." He recalled that moment in the battle of the day before when Soren was swept into the sky, when Boyd laid on the ground bleeding, when steel flashed and wyverns roared; then the sensation of mingling anger and confusion when he found his tactician in the couch, curled up in pain, and Shinon pacing restlessly with blood seeping from his bite wounds.

"Oh?"

"Yeah. We've had some...bumpy conflicts yesterday."

"Ta ha ha!" cried Bastian as he led the mercenaries to different upper-floor rooms. "Aren't you looking lovely today, dearest Lucia?"

"Oh what now, Count?"

"It is all a simple matter of a single glance at your radiating face upon which the sun beams most proudly!"

"Give it a break." Lucia sighed in an exhausted manner.

"But of course not, fair one! I -- "

"We're getting rooms, right?" interrupted Shinon. "Do you mind not forgetting that because of some woman with a pretty face? You're just like Gatrie..."

"Why, verily so! Off we go!"

Bastian was so loud, even Ike and Elincia could hear him. The two gazed at each other almost dreamily. "He's always like this, isn't he?" Ike asked in an attempt to stir conversation. Elincia nodded, but said nothing. "How's everyone doing?"

"Better than ever."

"And you?"

"Well..." She became undecided. "I...I really don't know, Ike."

Ike nodded, understanding this. "It's okay. You'll be fine." She smiled and nodded gratefully.

Titania and Mia were found a room, and next door would be Gatrie and Shinon. Rhys would be nearby and would share the room with Ike.

For the remainder of the day, people bustled back and forth, attending to business, delivering messages, surveying Crimea, and constantly sending reports to Elincia. "The treasury has expanded quite drastically." "A blood fued from two families in Toha is being requested." "The folk have suspected that the baker in Melior's Bazaar is behaving strangely." "Your Highness, a representative of a nearby village desires to see you." "The Daeins approach rapidly." "The Daeins camp upon the mountains." "Intelligence reports say the laguz of the Daeins all consist of Gallians, and they have mainly halberdiers among their ranks." Such passed through the messengers and Ike could hear it all from his room, although there were times he was wandering the place away from Elincia. Geoffrey, Bastian, or Lucia would give him news of what the latest report was if this became the case. Kieran was quite uptight with the coming battle and did nothing but train outside, where the other knights kept a distance from him as to not be hit by his axe. Poor Rhys had to literally stalk him so he would not die of a training blade in his head. Shinon had joined some archers at target practice and was easily the best, which calmed him down and distracted him from all of his irritable thoughts. Gatrie was chasing maids, Mia was chasing him -- to pull him back -- all around the castle, Titania was mostly staring out the window in her room, and Ike was watching as Geoffrey came in and out the tower where Elincia's throne room resided. The two appeared to notice one another quite easily. Neither knew, but they were quick to recognize the other because both had a liking for the queen. There was no competitive glaring or sneers from the other. They simply raised a hand in greeting and passed by one another. Gatrie began going out to the marketplace in the late afternoon. Mia knew he was intending on mischief, and she inevitably pursued him. Bastian was hoping to capture Lucia's heart with his flowing, dramatic vocabulary, yet she always managed to slip away or turn him away. Ike went to exchange a word with Titania about the conditions of their company. Titania thought she was not as reliable as Soren, but the commander paid it no mind whatsoever and took an acceptable estimate from the captain. He noticed that their money had run low. With this in mind, Ike went out wandering in the marketplace to where he witnessed Gatrie bouncing back and forth. Gatrie was quite a gullible man. Rhys followed Kieran out into Melior but encountered the little laguz girl again, who distracted him and thus Kieran did vanish from his sight. Rhys panicked and hurriedly told the girl there was someone he had to follow lest the person would harm himself, and so he rushed off to find Kieran once more. Shinon was napping somewhere. Events continued like this on until the arrival of nighttime when the torches were lit and the market turned silent.

* * *

Ike waited quietly at the entrance, surrounded by the mercenaries and a small force of the Royal Guard. As Melior was surrounded by walls, the Daeins would inevitably encounter them at the front, for there could be no other way to enter except by wing. There had been no reports of there being a single wyvern rider present among them, however.The golden blade that was Ragnell hung lazily from Ike's hand. Titania appeared slightly drowsy on the back of her horse, but she attempted to remain alert as she stood by Ike's right. Geoffrey had to accompany Ike's left. The mercenaries and guard were spread across the gate, shielding it with sparse numbers, and if any Daein or renegade laguz was to break through their numbers then some Crimean mages would drive the enemy back. The reason that they could not summon a large force was because Elincia did not wish to waste energy and numbers on a small group of attackers. It would be a waste of time, a waste of effort as one of her advisors said. However, Ike believed there was another reason. It had to be an excuse to have the Greil Mercenaries come.

"Sir Ike."

He blinked for a moment, shook his head, and looked at Geoffrey. "Hm? Yeah?"

"You look distracted."

"Oh -- oh, nothing's wrong, it's just...nothing. Never mind."

Geoffrey lowered his helmet-guised head. "Are you sure?" he asked, an eyebrow lightly lifted beneath the visor.

"Yeah, don't worry about it."

Gatrie sniffed, about to drop over from drowsiness and the cold air. There were no stars tonight. There were was only a great, thin layer of black clouds, through which a feeble crescent moon could shine. His lance was ready to fall from his hand. However, someone was behind him. A Gallian tiger without a shirt stood, the backs of his wrists rested against his hips, his flat chin raised high. He had a deep orange tail which flicked restlessly, and his fiery orange hair was a mess on his head. His golden eyes surveyed the landscape explicitly, seeking a new detail in every minute part of the hills. The tiger's name was Baruch. His expression was cruel, with a square double-chin and narrow yellow eyes with thin black pupils, his frown containing every trace of hardened labor and merciless ferocity. They said he was a good man, but he often had a misleading first impression. Baruch silently watched the hills, his chin high and eyes leering down, his tail as unsettled as Lethe's in a tense situation. He wasn't related to her. In fact, neither knew the other, and the tiger was merely a man who was hoping to aid Melior's defense against the Daeins.

Gatrie leaned on his lance once more. He observed the dancing shadows that the torches at their sides cast upon the ground, assured that his fellows would warn of the attack. Meanwhile, the knight had allowed himself to drift away into his own thoughts. He rather missed that Astrid girl from Begnion. Life was good, even with the mercenaries, but he never seemed able to snag an honest girl. They were always turning on him. Shinon did always say he was too gullible for his own good. Gatrie sighed, wishing life would be at least a little nicer to him.

"Ah! Aaah!" he yelled, glancing around wildly. Baruch had put his hand on Gatrie's head, scaring him.

"The Daeins near. They extinguish their torches and draw their weapons."

"Thank you, Baruch," said Ike as he nodded at him. "Will you be joining us in battle?"

"It would be an honor, sir."

"Much appreciated, Baruch. Ready your weapons! Raise your shields!"

The paladins lifted their shields, Titania holding hers. She hadn't kept one in possession for a while until they came into Melior. Gatrie gripped his spear in front of him, eyes focused. Ike's grasp on his sword's hilt tightened. Rhys was standing near Kieran, who was by Geoffrey. Rhys still couldn't trust Kieran not to harm himself. Bastian was near the end of the group, humming to himself though he was quite focused on their approaching foe, and Lucia stood by him. Bastian had insisted on being found on the frontlines. A few other Crimean soldiers had joined them, each in white armor with a bit of forest green on them, wielding spears and steady in their spots. One named Jaron didn't seem very stable at the notice of the coming Daeins. His hand was sweating from gripping his iron spear so tightly. A friend of Jaron's nudged him in the side, mumbling that everything would be fine. They all saw as a nearly invisible group shifted over a tall hill, coming toward them in a ragtag formation. A few on horseback were galloping ahead of the alleged halberdiers with hulking forms on four legs accompanying him. Titania pressed her tongue against the roof of her mouth, her jaws clenched at the thought of there still being mad laguz. Ashnard's insanity was enough. She asked herself if Daein desired to follow in his footsteps. She cursed them, cursed them silently in her mind, praying for them to meet their well-deserved deaths.

The Daein horsemen came closer alongside equally swift tigers. Ike lifted his sword, holding it in both hands, and soon many followed as they assumed combat stances and flexed their joints.

"Should we meet them, or stand our ground?" asked Geoffrey.

"Let them come to us," Ike replied bluntly, and Geoffrey rested his shield on his wrist, raising his lance against the side of his white horse. His short blue hair turned a strange shade of orange and light blue in the light of the torches. The same was for Ike's hair, but Titania's seemed to turn ablaze.

"Wait, sir Ike!" cried Bastian, leaping forward toward him. "I've a wonderful idea, o' courageous lord! At my side I do bear a Blizzard tome -- pray tell that I may use it!"

"What? You do?" said Ike blankly. "Huh. Well, go ahead, they don't look like they're going to stop for chat."

Bastian nodded with a proud grin, then pulled the Blizzard tome from his belt and flipped it open. He hurriedly flicked through pages of incantations and techniques to the page where the source of its magic waited, read the bold ink that was the spell's words, then glanced up as he saw their enemies near and thrust his hand up.

"Aim at the ones who are closer," commanded Ike.

"Uobnok ezakoo -- " cried Bastian, then glanced at the tome, " -- urekustekak!"

At this, Bastian's heart pounded wildly three times as he felt the tome's magic fill him, then much of his energy rushed forth to the skies where the clouds immediately gathered and turned dark. The spirits of the wind shrieked angrily at the Daeins. A gale just short of cold like ice attacked them all, but there were no blades like the typical wind spell. Rather, the clouds above dropped great hailstones upon the heads of their enemy, flinging them like rocks into their faces. The horses stopped and neighed uncontrollably, confused and hurt. The mercenaries and guard observed as a particularly large stone slammed into a tiger and knocked him over. In the back, the halberdiers slowed hesitantly, wanting to wait out the spell's maelstrom. Bastian stumbled back from the force of the trigger into Geoffrey's stallion. The steed pushed him forth, grumbling, and Bastian dazedly retreated to his original location near Lucia.

The falling stones of ice diminished. Once all was clear, the weakened horsemen urged their mounts up, and as they galloped on toward the gate the defenders could see a lameness in their strides. The gait appeared heavy and slightly awkward. Midway through the charge, one horse fell and whickered painfully as its right foreleg crumbled beneath its weight, the hail-clobbered bone snapping dreadfully. One knight glanced back at his dismounted comrade, who lay inches away from the neighing and thrashing horse. But while four horseback knights and two snarling tigers thundered toward the group, the defenders raised their weapons and remained in position.

"_Haaa!_"

Ike's roar indicated the signal to fight, and as he brought his sword right down upon a coming stallion's head, the others aimed at the other three. In Geoffrey's hand was a blue lance with a head that bore a curve in the middle of its edge, giving it two spikes with which he stabbed at Ike's rival. So swift was the brave lance did it strike the armored man thrice, but its fourth lunge missed. Nonetheless it drove the knight back. The torch cast their amber glow upon his black Daein armor, the dark eyes of his deep grey horse shining beneath soft eyelashes. Ike held back whilst Geoffrey charged forward, stabbing toward the Daein. The dark stallion clumsily retreated back and back again. Geoffrey heard a great roar behind his foe, so he turned his horse and returned to his original spot as a grey tiger leapt over the Daein's head and dashed at Ike. Ragnell came down into the tiger's snout. Ike listened as the laguz snarled, swinging its head madly back and forth, saliva flying. Titania's mare flew into the scene as it commenced trampling the bruised animal. Her expression was quite stiff at this, and she turned to the horseman, holding her axe menacingly whilst she eyed his steel lance.

Baruch crouched behind Gatrie, growling quietly as he observed the battle. Gatrie ran toward his foe with a trained cross-swing downwards, his lance just missing the brown horse's ear. It ran forth as its rider aimed a lance at Gatrie's head. Alarmed, he stumbled back, only to be caught on Baruch and forced to fall onto his shoulders, groaning. Baruch pounced before Gatrie could land on him. As all laguz did, he was enveloped in light that rippled across his body with the sound of shattering glass, his muscles shifting and clothes melting into bright orange fur. Claws extended from his large paws when he launched into the stallion's chest, scratching as ruthlessly as he could and splitting flesh to allow blood to stain his face. He shut his golden eyes while the animal shrieked, staggering here and there. Its rider angrily stabbed at Baruch, his lance digging into the left shoulder, but the tiger only darted out the other side and leapt up, tackling him to the ground with dripping fangs bared. He breathed foul smell on the Daein's face, his paws pinning his foe's wrists to the ground.

"Down, you curs!" howled Kieran and he raised a flashing axe over his head, gripping his shield in front of his horse's face. The second tiger, a beast of a deep violet shade, scraped the surface of the shield with its yellow claws. The rider reinforcing the tiger thrust a sword at Kieran's shield in an attempt to force him back. Lucia flashed into the scene, slashing down upon the tiger with lightning agility. Blood suddenly coated the blade in a small shower of crimson. The tiger whirled around snarling and rose onto its hind legs with a swipe at her belly. Lucia leapt back, not wanting to ruin her white dress. Bastian saw this and immediately came to her aid, throwing his hand forth and evoking flame to the animal. The tiger wailed, stumbling back, and once its partner had witnessed this the Daein turned to attack Bastian. Kieran intercepted by galloping in. He leered competitively as he lifted his axe and swung down, impelling the Daein's sword out of his armored hand. The black enemy horse whinnied and stepped away from Kieran nervously.

A wind spell from Bastian's flourishing hand blew blades into the man's face. He cried out as the cuts seeped blood, clutching the reins and fumbling at his belt for one of his spare swords. But Kieran would not allow him such an opportunity. Kieran's white horse rushed into the black mare, its head slamming into the black steed's chest and pushing it back. Lucia went forth and swung at his arm. But before the blow landed, the rider unsheathed his second sword and stabbed her in the middle of the collar bone, the tip sinking in. Lucia, startled, retreated and soon found herself beneath the weight of the tiger, trapped on her stomach as fangs snapped at her shoulders. She was yelling. The beast's teeth tore through cloth and flesh, staining her dress in red.

"Release the lady, vile monster!"

Bastian blindly threw himself onto the tiger, holding a weathered and dulled stiletto knife. He pierced the back with the object. Immediately, the tiger growled and bucked like an angry horse, bouncing here and there just to be rid of the man, tossing its head from side to side messily. Rhys was quite startled and went to heal Lucia while Kieran held off the Daein horseman.

Gatrie matched lances with the grey rider. This man held two lances, both steel and of the same design, one stabbing at Gatrie and the other swinging at Ike. Ike stood back, waiting for an opening through the flashing weapon, watching its swing with rolls of his head and eyes. Titania was staring down at the tiger she had cruelly stomped to death. She appeared as though she wanted to apologize and beg forgiveness from the corpse. The paladin retreated a little, prying her eyes away from the bloody carcass to Geoffrey, who was now facing off against the fourth rider. When she glanced up she saw the fallen fifth was attempting to flee with his horse. He would not get far. She heaved her axe's weight onto the muscle of her arm, lifting the weapon and charging for Geoffrey's foe. In a crushing blow she sent the axe into the shoulder. Geoffrey lunged with his lance, but the rider managed to catch it behind the head and slash Titania's face with his own sword. She yelped, pulled her axe away, and turned her white mare to trot off to another position around him. Angrily Geoffrey managed to pull his brave lance away. He stabbed, but it only struck air when his rival ducked aside and slid the point of his sword into Geoffrey's clothed arm. The Crimean cried out but aimed another stab and caught simply armor, piercing through it and leaving two holes in the breastplate. The flat side of an axe crashed into the Daein's face and toppled him off the back of his black horse. Titania's assault left him with a crushed nose and a bleak stare upwards. He was clutching his face, moaning, while his horse neighed and cantered away in its confusion.

The man whose brown horse had run from Baruch was utterly dead. His throat was torn out, leaving exposed bone and the shining inside of his neck. Death glazed his eyes. No breath came from his lips.

Jaron the Crimean soldier pulled on the tail of the grey Daein horse so fiercely it screamed. The horse rose from the ground onto its hind legs. However, its rider managed to stay on, only to receive a pierce in the sole of his right foot by Ike. He roared out, and as the horse came down Gatrie's lance met him in the left cheek below the eye. Such a painful attack made him pull the reins desperately to escape. Ike's sword whipped across his elbow, shot down through the skin on his upper arm, and Ike proceeded to kick the horse's hind leg in. All heard as it whickered loudly and collapsed. Another Crimean warrior named Caros kicked the horse harder than Ike had in the stomach, then pulled his axe down at the struggling rider while he was trying to climb out from beneath his mount. The weapon crashed into the side of his ribs. Ike heard the Daein whimper, then left him there to turn his attention to the man on the black horse nearby. Jaron's gaze followed while Gatrie strode over in his heavy armor, his spear at the ready.

An arrow zipped over their heads. Baruch, resting by the gate, raised his orange tiger head to watch. Titania couldn't help but allow it to distract her for a split second. Lucia, uneasily getting onto her feet, saw the arrow sailing through the air. Rhys too observed this. Ike, Caros, Gatrie, and Bastian all watched as the arrow struck an unnoticed halberdier in the eye with ugly force. Now nine Daein soldiers had joined the fight, their tenth felled by Shinon's deadly arrow, and they were quick to take count of their casaulties. A tiger was crushed, a rider lay dead, Kieran had just beheaded the second tiger as it was launching at him, another rider winced beneath his shuddering mount, Titania and Geoffrey circled their victim to prevent fleeing, and the last rider was on the ground from one of Kieran's slicing blows, an open gash in his chest and an expression of agony cast over him.

"Wroaaa!" snarled the first as he came at Titania. With mad lunges he stabbed at Titania, his lance bouncing off her armor as she tried to pull her mare away. When the spearhead struck her waist, her face twisted into a grimace and then a glare, then she brought her axe down with intense strength that cut deep into the side of the head. The halberdier gave a yowl and pierced the same wound, cutting further. Near her another halberdier had challenged Geoffrey, dodging his blue lance, but Geoffrey took up his duties as a chivalrous cavalier and swept Titania's foe aside with a gallop and a swing of his weapon. As Titania waggled the reins, moaning painfully to herself, Geoffrey's horse rose from the ground and kicked at the second halberdier in a whinny. Titania retreated to Rhys for treatment.

Three halberdiers had turned on Ike and Gatrie. They were surrounded, each fighting back swinging and stabbing lances as professionally as they could, but the speed of two against the speed of three was taking its toll upon them. Baruch decided to reinforce the two. He let out a roar, shaking the nerves of the three soldiers for a desirable moment, then Jaron, Caros, and their third man Lokolon tackled a separate soldier down to the ground each. Jaron shoved his lance into his enemy's clothed belly, Caros was pulling his foe's spear away, and Lokolon had engaged in a minor wrestling match. Jaron was thrown off. The halberdier leapt to his feet, lance in both hands and over his head. Gatrie allowed him no opportunity to proceed -- his lance went through the man's neck. The man died in that pose with lance over his head. As he fell onto his face, his face full of shock, his spear fell out of his hands and Gatrie stepped away. Ike had gone to release Lokolon from his wrestling trap. When the Daein soldier was on top of the Crimean warrior, Ike sent Ragnell blazing across the Daein's back, razing through armor and burning into flesh. He heard a yell and the Daein thrust his head down with pain, his hand tightening on Lokolon's left shoulder, lance suspended in the air by his other hand. Lokolon used his free hand to shift his spearhead closer to his fist and shove it through the cheek. The Daein screamed, pushed himself up, and Ragnell's flat face met him in the side, throwing him onto the ground near the crushed rider.

"You alright?" Ike asked, offering his hand to Lokolon. The soldier took the commander's hand and allowed himself up.

"Just...a bit of a hole here..." he answered, and indicated a few wounds on his right. "He was left-handed..."

"Get to Rhys, alright?"

Caros had his unarmed foe at the end of his lance. The Daein backed away, not exactly willing to die, his eyes on his own weapon a few feet away. Suddenly a shadow rose above him and Gatrie yanked his arm, pulling the Daein halberdier toward him.

"Your not going anywhere," he said, and stomped off toward the gate with the Daein dragged along behind.

Four arrows whistled above and cut into three halberdiers at the other end of the line, though one arrow landed harmlessly somewhere. At this time, there were two dead soldiers, one being pulled away by Gatrie, and one crippled near his cavalier ally. The five others were engaged in furious battle at the other end, two staggering from their arrow wounds, one charging wildly at Lucia despite the object sticking out of his forehead. Geoffrey aimed his lance at the fourth and caught him in the leg, tripping him. Titania's axe blew him aside and left a horrible gash in the side of his skull through the ear. The fifth was on the ground, unable to rise through the beating of Rhys's light magic and Bastian's thunder sorcery. When he was still the two ceased their attacks. In came some magic from the back-up group behind the gate, and thus Lucia, Bastian, Rhys, Titania, Geoffrey, and Kieran did flee as an assault of fire rolled down alongside lightning and wind. Kieran's horse had run too quickly and he fell off its back a distance away from the site of the attack. While he landed on his back, yelping, Geoffrey turned his horse and returned to Kieran to help him onto his feet. More arrows cut the air, now in an angry swarm blurring at the halberdiers. Down went three more. The remaining two panted, standing weakly with ruined armor and several wounds and bruises, both coated in arrows. One dropped his lance and fell onto his face. The other tried to run at Kieran and Geoffrey, yelling, but only succeeded in tripping over himself and landing onto his chest with a grunt, his spear spinning away from him.

The chaos had finally ceased. Ike wiped some sweat from his forehead, panting, his arms warm with adrenaline, and he listened as Titania galloped away to collect the fifth rider attempting to pull his wounded horse away on the hill. He took count of their enemy of their current status. One tiger was trampled, another beheaded. A rider lay with an open throat, another clutching his horribly bleeding face, a third trapped under an unmoving steed, and the fourth trying not to touch the heavy wound in his chest.

The first halberdier died by the arrow in his eye. The second who had attacked Titania first, then sent away by Geoffrey, now lay dead from the rain of arrows. The third who Geoffrey's horse had reared at earlier was made a carcass by Rhys and Bastian. The fourth died from the lance through his neck. The fifth, who wrestled with Lokolon earlier, lay in a heap by the rider under his horse. The sixth was at the gate with Gatrie, appearing very anxious. The seventh was the one who had the bad wound through his ear and had fallen on his face. The eight was quite dead mostly from arrows, magic, and an unnoticed brief skirmish between him and Lucia. The ninth was the one who tripped over himself. The tenth was dead by the storm of archery and sorcery. This meant six Daein soldiers were left dead. Three riders remained alive discluding the one in the hills.

This meant that the survivors would be taken to Queen Elincia for questioning. All wounds were sealed up by Rhys, all weapons were sheathed, everything valuable to the Daein party was taken, and they marched back, leaving behind them a site of blood thick with its stench and a field littered with unsightly corpses. Though Geoffrey was the one to lead the new captives to the queen the rest went to sleep in their rooms. They joined Shinon, who appeared quite content with feathering the enemy alongside his fellow snipers, and joined the mages who had aided their plight. They chatted amongst themselves of the fight, unaware of the morose emotion amongst their Daein would-be enemies. When Ike glanced over Ragnell he scowled. He had to wash his blade again. Rhys glanced about, finally realizing that Mia had not been present the entire time. Gatrie seemed to notice this as well. When they came to the castle they discovered that Mia had fended off several hawks that had flown in from above, also feral and also dead. Apparently, she had slain them with only a silver sword and two vulneraries.

In the castle they soon rested. Activity had not died down at all.

Titania was in her room with Mia, but she was falling asleep on her bed, not listening to the swordwoman as she paced here and there excitedly, retelling her battle against the hawks as she heard the screams of the main fight throughout. Rhys came in, knocked on the doorframe, and smiled.

"Don't fall asleep! We're about to have dinner, Titania."

"Yeah," said Shinon as he appeared just past Rhys. "Aren't you hungry?"

"Oh, I almost forgot." Titania smiled, her head in her pillow as Mia rambled on and on without realizing that two men had just entered.

Ike was with Elincia, attempting to help in getting the Daeins to speak. Geoffrey had made no progress and neither did Ike nor Elincia. Kieran was trying to stir some answers with empty threats and knightly insults, but he gained nothing. With every question they asked, they were answered with silence.

"I'm getting tired of this question. What was your reason for attacking?"

This very question had been asked six times before already. Eventually, a rider finally succumbed and replied bitterly.

"We have nothing," he said through gritted teeth, forced onto his knee but his sights to the ground. "And who else to blame but Crimea?"

Ike sighed, considering this not much of an answer. "They're not going to say anything helpful."

"Shall we take them down to the dungeons, Your Highness?" requested Kieran.

"Oh, but..."

"My queen," cut in Geoffrey, "I understand your feelings. However, we cannot risk them running freely either around Melior or back to Daein."

"W-well..."

"Just don't hurt them," said Ike, and he nodded at Elincia, who nodded gratefully in return. Geoffrey bowed his head, gestured toward the door, and led them out. Kieran followed muttering more insults about the dishonor of the Daeins. Ike gave a brief bow to Elincia and departed soon after. He went to the room he was sharing with Rhys, sitting on the bed and placing Ragnell across his lap. Exhaustion traced every feature on his hardened face. Without warning, Ike suddenly hiccuped, and he glanced around in shock at the walls as though something had possessed him for a moment.

"How's life treating you?" asked Shinon as he sat on his bed, his legs drawn up and crossed. Gatrie scratched his head.

"Eh..."

"You don't look so jolly. Couldn't get a girl today? Is that it?"

"Oh, Shinon."

Rhys came into his room, sat on the bed opposite of Ike, and rested his hand on his stomach as he put his staff down on his lap. "Ooh, we haven't eaten in some time..." His stomach grumbled rather loudly, and he grinned sheepishly. Ike nodded.

"Hope they got some spicy meat dishes here."

"That's just like you Ike."

The warrior smirked, forgetting Ragnell for a moment. "You think?"

All was friendly as they continued on as such, having a nice word for one another before either wandering the castle or resting in their beds. Titania remained in her room whilst Mia went to roam. Both Gatrie and Shinon went about the corridors to see what hung on the walls. Ike, of course, accompanied Elincia alongside Geoffrey, and Rhys went to see if Kieran was training too hard again. Maids and servants went here and there, knights passed each other and exchanged a hand or two, a message came in from Marquis Katol's orphan Silok, and soon they were called to dinner. The table was greater than the one at the fort, where many people had gathered and were formal in their greetings. Titania had to monitor the eating habits of her fellows carefully. Ike found to his disappointment that too many people were seated near Elincia for him to be close. The foods were delicious, well-cooked by expert cooks, and the mercenaries eagerly rummaged through what they could find to gulp it down by the masses. But they were careful due to Titania's critical surveillance over them. From there, they returned to their rooms with full stomachs, falling asleep peacefully in contentment. Yet alas, Ike felt it wasn't all too fair that the ones left at home could not have enjoyed such a banquet. Fortunately Oscar was there. The stars and moon passed, the night drawing into the horizon, and as it came and went the castle eventually turned still. Dreams were found in the dark. Nightmares dreamt were easily forgotten. A blissful wind hummed outside. A man jolted to life in his sleep but simply fell motionless again.

Dawn came, and the earliest servants and maids set out around the castle, busy as ever. The chefs were awoken to make breakfast. Elincia found herself walking the somewhat empty corridors, beholding the delicate dawn light that drifted through the windows. She came upon Titania and traded kind smiles. Soon Rhys was awake as Shinon stirred, and Mia came to life as more activity stirred. Though a bit tired she was as bouncy as ever. Gatrie and Ike slept on, but as food was being cooked Gatrie finally awoke. When the sun climbed higher Titania finally decided to wake Ike. He stared lazily for a moment before the woman pulled him right out of bed onto the floor. Again they came to the dining hall to eat. The food was as delectable as ever but dulled by their drowsy taste buds. They went out to tailors and blacksmiths to fix their armor and clothing. No pay was needed as they were guests of the queen. They gave their deepest apologies to Elincia, as they had to depart for home, and with well-spent goodbyes to their Crimean comrades they mounted their horses and galloped out of Melior, following the hills they had once traversed and would traverse yet again.

* * *

Not once had he risen from that couch. It was there he had lain all of the previous day, and all that morning, without really budging much. Every time Mist, Oscar, or Rolf had come in they were worried he had died. Boyd knew just the thing to stir him though. He always prodded Soren hard between the ribs to prove he wasn't dead. There was only one time he had left the couch, and that was just to take care of a bit of business. As he had done this he had draped his blanket over the left side of his face, also concealing his left limb, shoulder, and leg. He had just eaten breakfast. Mist refused to leave until he had done so.

Soren was as motionless as ever in that couch, eyelids resting in his false nap. His ears focused on the sounds that wandered in through the two windows. Voices came and went in conversations between everyone in the fort, and because there was a serious shortage of people, the place was lonelier than ever. He was lonelier than ever. As he lay, he tried not to return to his memories. No good memory awaited him in the shadows of his mind. There was only sadness, fear, and pain. He saw no anger save for rage to the enemy for harming Ike. He saw no joy, only relief to escape the worser fates. Soren still refused to move from these thoughts. He heard Oscar above humming something. Footsteps grew and then faded to another room of the upper floor.

Something compelled him to move. He felt something. He felt something familiar. Someone was approaching. No, some people were approaching. He opened his eyes, strained his ears to listen, and slowly the distant sound of thudding hooves came to him in the quietest of murmurs. Soren recognized this feel on his skin, for he was sensing horses and their riders nearing. As silent as a snake he rolled of out the settee and landed delicately on his feet, crouching, the brown blanket clutched in his left hand. It slipped away with a soft flutter. Soren rose to full height, lifting the blanket over the left side of his face again and concealing that half of his body as he had done before. No, the bruise had not vanished. No, his belly was not well, but he ignored the pain to stride on silently with cape and blanket waving behind him. No one was in the lobby. He didn't give one glance to his sandals by the entrance as he stepped out into the gentle sunlight, though the sun itself was bright, and he leaned against the left of the door, holding that blanket over his eye and patiently awaiting the remainder of the Greil Mercenaries to arrive.

Someone walked through the lobby, he could hear. They were headed for his room.

"Soren?" cried Rolf. "Soren! Where did you go? Oscar! Mist! Boyd! Soren's missing!"

Soren was just outside, actually. Nonetheless they raced around in search of the mage. Boyd poked his head through a window just above Soren, and as he glanced around, he saw a slightly unfamiliar figure right below him.

"Hey!" yelled the warrior. Soren turned his head up and Boyd immediately recognized the crimson eye and the red mark on his forehead. "Oh! There you are."

"Did you find him?" asked Mist and her head joined his outside the window. "Soren! What are you doing up?"

"Ike's coming," he replied, but he was too quiet for them to hear.

"What?"

"Ike," he answered with a slightly louder tone.

Ike galloped along on the back of his horse, trying not to fall off. He often had trouble staying on the back of a horse for some reason when they were going at full speed. Ike waggled the reins so that it slowed to a trot, and he heard as the other mounts did the same. His brown stallion slowed to join Titania's white mare.

"Um, Titania..."

"Hm?" She looked at him with her glittering emerald eyes. "Yes, Ike?"

"When we come in, could you hold your shield in front of me?"

"Why?"

He turned his head toward her. "Because Soren might kill me for abandoning him."

Titania chuckled. "Of course."

And as they came and trotted around to come through the western entrance they found Soren standing on the grass, waiting for them, holding that blanket over his eye and gazing almost mercilessly as they entered.


	5. IV :: Scarred

**Chapter 4: Scarred**

Well, Ike managed to keep his life. Soren had decided not to murder him.

"Syuh!"

With this huff the mage aimed a swing at Titania and leapt back. His right foot landed in the grass before the other. Titania had evaded the flashing steel edge of his hooked dagger by lurching her body back, her feet stationary. Soren charged, his hand behind as to slip a crescent hole into the paladin's waist. Both were in casual clothes. Neither wore footwear as they fought upon the grass. However, there was nothing casual about how Titania dashed at Soren in response to his movement, her clawed hand rushing at his left shoulder. His free hand intercepted the attack by trapping it beneath a fist. The sage's knife flew for the knight's arm, but her hand came around to halt him by the wrist. She flung him aside. Soren reached with his limbs toward the earth. When he landed, his hands and feet slipped along and against the grass, his uplifted body leaning away as he stopped, and when pain echoed in his stomach he groaned and collapsed on his side, his dagger's blue hilt in his hand.

Titania straightened her posture. "Soren."

He panred, sweating a bit, and glanced up.

"Should we stop? Is it hurting again?"

"I'll be fine," he called back. Titania shook her head in the falling sun's light. It was the dusk of a day in early spring, and the day before now was when the mercenaries had returned from Elincia's assignment. By this time, Soren's bruises had faded a bit, though the pain lingered.

"No, you get some rest, officer." She came to him and offered her hand. Soren pushed himself onto his knees and grasped it immediately. He was pulled to his feet and then dragged into the fort, where Boyd awaited them, his hands clasped behind his head.

"Nice fight." He was grinning as they strode by, Titania's hand on Soren's head.

Titania simply replied, "I'll get you next."

She took Soren to the fireplace room. As Titania departed to get her axe, Soren sat in the settee and blanket, staring at the soft flames with his dagger in his lap. He was weary. He was tired. But he, in a sense, was actually at ease as he gazed at the gentle embers. His head rolled back against the couch with a hanging jaw.

Boyd joined Titania to the armor room and got a playful punch in the left arm. While he rubbed his shoulder and glanced up, Titania said, "I picked that up from _you_. What do you think?" Boyd couldn't restrain a grin.

"Yeah, yeah, that's great and all...but you do it like this." He punched her even harder. She chuckled and tried to outmatch Boyd, pushing him away as her fist shot into him.

"Stop that!" Titania exclaimed as Boyd stumbled close. He laughed. The young and light-hearted man failed to resist doing it again.

"You!" he said as he ran down the hallway.

"Why you -- "

Titania's red braid fluttered behind her as she chased Boyd to the armory room.

"We're having leftovers!" Mist announced for dinner.

At the moment, Soren was combing his nails through his free hair. His fingers kept getting caught in some tangled locks. Ike was lounging in his room, most likely too bored to think on anything. One could find him supine and motionless on his bed. Rolf performed target practice alongside his tutor, Shinon, shooting at rows of sticks propped against the wall. Mia was watching the clouds as she lingered around the western entrance. There was a flock of feathery clouds far overhead, leading a mass of puffed grey ones, all drifting slowly to the south. Gatrie stretched his joints in the northernmost hallway belonging to Ike, Titania, Mist, and the brotherly trio who slept on three beds of a moderately large room. He strode to the western hallway where Soren's lonely room sat between four rooms, a chamber just a tad smaller than those of the northern hall.

Mist and Oscar were in the kitchen. While the girl monitored the pot of stew over the fire, Oscar was putting out glasses of water as Rhys scrubbed some old dishes, washing the stains away with a grey cloth in a broad wooden bucket. He did this as he crouched upon the floor by Ike's usual seat.

Two axes clanged throughout the lower hallways. The noise proceeded into the lobby, where Boyd and Titania mimicked each other's movements, swinging their blades to meet mid-air. They swung with both hands and then one. Any person could mistake it for a dance.

Soren was rubbing his face against the blanket he clutched, warming it with his breath. His ears turned onto the battling axes. A shadow dashed across the fireplace's light and he glanced up to see a small simple rodent scurrying past the flames.

Ike rose from his bed, intending to overlook the loud training session that proceeded below. There could be no risk of injury. Without wooden practice weapons, anyone was certainly liable to an accident.

"Oh my," Rhys breathed anxiously. "This is more worrisome than Soren practicing with a knife...or Kieran with a partner!" He watched combat issue nearby.

Oscar walked to him, smiling. "Don't worry about it. Captain Titania and Boyd should be trained enough not to harm each other."

"Yeah, well, they better finish soon!" Mist called from the pot. "Because the food's almost done!"

Shinon, Rolf, and Mia came into the lobby. Gatrie arrived but dodged around the scene, wanting to light torches with fire Soren could provide. None but Ike had noticed the candle in his hand. At current, the watchful commander leaned with spread arms hanging from the elbows against the eastern wall. There was a spark of light in the fireplace room. With a burning candle in hand, Gatrie went lighting the torches as he shuffled out the illuminated chamber into the lobby, and then went on to the torches down the eastward hallway.

"Hey...whelp."

Ike turned his head to the red-haired sniper on his left.

"Yeah, Shinon?"

"No one's got anything against me for that night, right?"

It seemed that target practice had allowed Shinon to unwind. Even Rolf looked rejuvenated.

"Don't worry, we all assumed you had a few drinks or something," said Ike with a shake of his head. Shinon glowered disdainfully.

"I wasn't."

Titania and Boyd leapt together. Boyd grunted when he hit the floor and he rolled back onto his feet.

"I know. I probably drove you mad."

"You know what? It wasn't just you."

Ike glanced at Boyd as he fell to his rump yet again. "Soren too."

Shinon shifted, almost twitching against the wall. "Yeah."

"Titania doesn't stay angry for long, trust me."

Ike, being their current commander, knew almost everything among the mercenaries. He could feel Shinon glaring at his ear (and he was).

"What does that mean?"

"It means Titania isn't mad. That's all." Ike held back a smirk. Anyone could see he was trained in controlling his face. Shinon stared on, but grew weary of leering at Ike's ear and watched the battle once more.

"Don't die before dinner."

Both axes had loomed above their holders' heads, but were lowered as they glanced at Soren in the doorway. The fireplace still burned with life behind him.

Boyd eyed the dagger in his hand. "Hey...what's that? Did someone say they'll murder you during dinner or something?"

Soren glanced down at the weapon, then looked at Boyd. "I don't know what you're talking about," answered he, which earned him a grin from the fighter.

"Sure you don't."

"Don't lower your guard!" Titania panted, and she lifted her axe in her right hand. Boyd leaped onto the brown couch behind him. He launched over without turning, landed with the couch's back near his face, then retreated backwards as Titania alarmingly pursued him over the settee.

Soren wandered into the kitchen to claim his usual seat.

"Hey, we're not done putting the dishes up," said Mist as he settled. "But don't worry. We'll get the bowls out soon." The bucket of dishwashing sat on a counter near the fireplace and pot. By the bucket, Mist was placing several dishes onto a wooden rack. Rhys stood by the pot and stirred a richly scented broth with a long ladle. Oscar had just begun placing silverware, beginning from Titania's chair down its right-hand side.

Soren turned in his seat. Along the west wall between two counters was a stairway that led to his own corridor upstairs, where torches lined the inner perimeter. That was the same stairway down which he had tackled Boyd two days ago.

"Brings back memories."

Soren looked at Oscar four seats away, but Oscar behaved as though he had said nothing, putting more spoons down.

From the pot Mist said, "Oh yeah. I can see your face all red again."

Soren gave her an awkward glance. "I...was tired," he replied flatly.

Mist was pouring pale yellow soup into a white bowl from the ladle. "You need more sleep, you know. Hey everyone! Get in here, it's about dinnertime!"

"Mm." Soren glanced down at the table, then stared at the opposite chair.

Someone began screaming. It was the medium-toned though mildly deep voice of a man whose name was Boyd. At the same time Soren's nose itched.

"Hkchoo -- " he sneezed, abruptly wrapping his arm around his face.

As his arm fell Oscar said, "Bless you," then, "Boyd! Are you okay?"

"_Aaaaa_ -- no! I'm not! Titania knocked my axe out of my hand and it fell on my foot!"

"Is it bleeding?"

"No, but I think I bruised it."

Concern faded to a blank on Oscar's face.

Soren could see Boyd sitting on the floor, clutching his foot while Shinon came into the kitchen with hands in his pockets and eyes to the ground. Shinon meandered past the other side of the table and took a seat next to Titania's.

"Can you, can you stand?"

"Ah! I'm okay! I'm okay!"

Oscar saw through his squinting eyes that Boyd's arm was pulled around Titania's shoulder as he hobbled Boyd into the kitchen. Boyd was hopping on his right foot and Titania supported his left half. Soren, knowing that Boyd would only complain more if he tried to stagger to a seat near Titania, discreetly pulled the chair next to him a bit back. When Titania noticed a conspicuously open seat she deposited Boyd in the chair next to the mage.

"You don't mind, do you, Soren?"

"Not at all," he responded without glancing off the opposite seat. Titania nodded, then strode to her seat down the table. Before she reached her chair Ike arrived with Mia and Rolf behind him. Ike took his seat and the other two took theirs, Rolf by Shinon and Mia a seat down Ike's right, as Oscar was setting silverware along Mia's row and Rhys checked the condition of Boyd's foot. Mist put the first bowl of soup down in front of Titania. The reason she had not done this earlier was due to the distraction of Boyd's yelling.

Boyd groaned, "Oww!" and winced whilst he clutched the table. Soren simply thought that Boyd's foot would've hurt more if he had hobbled farther. Boyd glanced down at him. "Hey, uh...what'cha staring at?" he asked with a teasing emphasis. "Waiting for Mist to sit down, Soren? I bet-cha are."

"I detest leftovers..." Soren mumbled absentmindedly.

Mia put down a bowl for Shinon and Rolf while Oscar handed them silverware. He was delivering Mia a spoon, then set one down in front of Ike, Soren, and Boyd.

"Hold still," Rhys instructed.

"It's not like I wanted it to twitch like that."

"If it's twitching involuntarily, that means a nerve was struck."

"Definitely a nerve. Ow!"

As Boyd was watching Rhys he winced again whilst the priest massaged the foot's muscles. Soren held his knife vertically in front of him, staring aimlessly at the edge, and Ike observed his hypnotized expression amusedly. Mist handed him a bowl and Ike set it down on his place, glancing up at her as he did, then returning to watch Soren's dagger-gazing.

"Uncle Shinon?"

Shinon's head was rested on his fist. He snapped to reality and looked at Rolf with a stunned face. "What?"

"Are you okay?" asked Rolf with his big, blue eyes. Shinon blinked at him.

"Yeah, kid... I'm fine."

"Really?"

"Look here, pup," said Shinon as he lowered his head and voice, locking eyes with Rolf, "If they know something's wrong with me, all they'll do is bother me."

"But are you _really_ okay?"

"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine. Got it?" He lifted his head and put his hand on his spoon.

Boyd sniffed at his bowl. It was the slightly sweet scent of potato mingling with the thickness of cooked curt meat. He picked up his spoon as Gatrie waddled in, appearing to automatically float to the empty seat next to Rolf, where a steaming bowl sitting innocently on a white plate awaited him. He pulled the chair back, flopped down, and immediately took his spoon.

Soren lifted his head. "Ah?"

"What's wrong?" asked Ike as he looked at him. Soren glanced at Ike then bowed his head toward the opposite seat, where Mist's bowl sat aside a reverse-bent spoon. Ike picked it up rather delicately and firmly held the broad end at eye level. Soren examined it at a small distance.

"Must've been bent against the table," he suggested. "The curve is too sharp to be by just two hands."

As Mist came, Ike leaned the spoon toward her and said, "You plan on eating with this?"

"What the _heck_? Ike! Why did you bend my spoon!" She flared at him with her light blue eyes, her tone accusing. Mist leaned over her chair and planted her hands on the table. Soren sipped some soup from his silverware. "Soren! Did you bend my spoon?"

"I didn't do it," he said. Boyd drew toward the spoon to stare at it.

"Who did that?"

"I don't know!" whispered Mist angrily. "I-I-Ike!"

"It wasn't me, Mist. I swear it."

Soren sipped some more soup.

"Oscar!" Mist raised the object after taking it from Ike. "Look at this!"

Oscar paused, then stood out of his chair and trotted up. Rhys rose from the floor to look at the peculiar item.

"Who could've done that?" boggled the priest, while Oscar closed in to get a better look.

"Maybe it happened during the party," he suggested. "One of the visitors could've gotten bored, I'd assume."

As Ike glanced up he coould see everyone on the other side was staring to his end of the table. Titania gazed questioningly. Ike pointed at Mist's spoon with his thumb. Mia, who sat next to Mist, allowed her spinning fingers to flip her own spoon in the soup, watching with very mild interest toward their mysterious silverware.

Ike looked at Mist. "Just get another spoon, okay? We'll figure this one out after dinner." Mist obediently put the silverware down with a nod and went to the rack of spoons, forks, and knives. Oscar went to his seat opposite of Shinon.

"Your aim is exceptional," Titania commented to Rolf, who appeared rather surprised. Shinon looked at Titania's bowl. It was half-empty. He glanced down at his and saw that barely anything was missing. "And I daresay you're starting to look like your teacher too!"

Rolf blushed. Seven months ago, they had all discovered Rolf's unusual similarities to Shinon in archery, stumbling across the secret that Shinon had taught Rolf how to use a bow. Just a moment ago, Titania had noticed Rolf's eyes, which were a bit narrower than how most of them remembered. They used to be quite wide and innocent. Now they had begun to take on the appearance of the sniper's eyes, eyes that were narrowed with squinting in their aim.

Shinon knew Titania was teasing him. But when he looked at Rolf, he felt pride for those blue eyes and smirked. "I'm definitely this pup's teacher."

Titania chuckled. "Indeed." Rhys sat next to Oscar.

"Hey Shinon," cut in Gatrie, turning his head to him, "not to be rude, but doesn't it seem that you taught the kid too well? I think he's gotten better than you."

Shinon's smirk faltered. "What does that mean?"

"I mean, haven't you noticed?" Gatrie glanced around.

Rhys and Oscar listened as they consumed their bowls of soup, and it seemed that Rolf had tuned out whilst he eagerly ate what he had.

"Kid hits a bullseye every time, always gets his target, and I think he shows off while he does it too! He spins his arrows enough, but now _he's starting to spin himself_!"

"That's right, Rolf." Oscar glanced at his young brother with his squinting eyes. "I've noticed that sometimes you spin, step aside, shoot a bullseye, and do it again in rapid succession. You must shoot ten arrows in five seconds or so."

Rolf looked up and blushed a little more, a piece of meat falling from his lip.

"Ah, but Shinon has the ability to paralyze the enemy, sometimes even kill them when he's ten feet in the air," Rhys pointed out.

Gatrie nodded. "Now that's a show."

"The pup ain't halfway there," scoffed Shinon, stirring the broth.

"Are you holding him back, Shinon?"

The sniper glared at Oscar. There was silence for a moment, shaken by the sound of slurping, before Gatrie brought discussion to the whole table.

"Hey, everyone!" he exclaimed. "I just remembered...back at Melior. Someone at the castle told me something really interesting."

"Castle maid?"

"Yeah! How'd you know, Shinon?"

"It's rather obvious, Gatrie. Not only that, but I overheard the conversation."

Mia curiously asked, "What'd she tell you?"

Gatrie gesticulated as he said, "Okay, okay, get this," pushing at the air and glancing back and forth, then continued, "There are actually people who are half-laguz!"

Soren bit down on his spoon.

The others grew quiet, a few leaning forward, others still eating. Mia was appalled, Titania seemed curious, Rhys was surprised, and Mist and Rolf were stunned at this information.

"Eww!" said Mia. "Half-_laguz_? Like...half-beorc, half-laguz?"

Gatrie shrugged and said, "Guess love applies to anyone."

"So what did she say?" urged Mist. Ike glanced to Soren in concern, but the mage simply forced himself to swallow what he had. Boyd's expression was mostly disbelieving.

Gatrie's voice began to quiet itself as he spoke. "They look just like us and a whole bunch of them live in the Grann Desert. They're called the Branded."

"Are you sure they look like us instead of _sin_?" scoffed Shinon. "It'd be easier for me to know who to shoot between the eyes."

"Shinon! That's mean," Mist whined.

"She didn't know anything else," continued Gatrie, "but I'm kinda worried about what they can do and what they will do to us for shunning the lot."

"I'd think that they would have traits of both beorc and laguz," Rhys suggested.

Titania raised her eyebrows. "So can they transform?"

"That'd be funny, a transforming beorc?" said Rolf.

"Maybe they have laguz powers but don't transform," Mist thought aloud. "Ike, what do you think?" Her brother stared with blue eyes of uncertainty.

"Don't look at me," he said, then watched Soren worriedly. He was the only one who could see the provoked fright in his pale face and stiff hand.

Boyd relaxed in his chair. "I don't believe it. It doesn't make sense."

"You never know," Oscar replied. "Seems one person hasn't spoken yet."

Said person's instincts moaned, _This is bad, this is bad..._

"Soren?"

Soren resisted the urge to regurgitate what was stuck in his throat. He struggled with indignation, anger, fear, and lastly, confusion. Then he feigned illness.

The suspended spoon fell into the last of the soup. He abruptly shot up, forced the chair back, and with his head hung he said in a shuddering voice, "I think I'm going to be sick." Soren snatched his dagger off the table and stumbled toward the staircase.

As he was hurrying up the stairs Ike stood and called, "Soren!"

Mist tasted her broth. "Is it that bad?"

Since the stairway led right up to Soren's corridor, he quickly found his small domain and shut the door, swung around, turned the lock, and stood there. His hand slowly drew away from the lock. He noticed how slow and cautious his breathing had become.

_I ran? Cowardice..._

Soren sighed exhaustedly as he meandered to the table right of the little window. He took a scabbard from it, sat in the chair, and sheathed the knife. Soren slapped it down next to his journal. He went limp in that chair, his head hung back whilst he tried to collect his thoughts.

All was quiet.

Ike took Soren's bowl to the counter. The mercenaries mumbled amongst themselves, finishing their soup, though Titania was notably eating faster. Ike, instead of returning to his seat, traveled up the stairs to the tactician's door. He paused there, wondering what to say.

Titania was disturbed and deeply concerned. She planned to address this quickly.

As Soren ran his hand over his face, Ike knocked on the door.

"Soren? ...Soren, are you okay?"

The tactician refused to listen, his head still hung back and eyes closed.

Boyd looked at Mist, then Ike's half-empty bowl. "That was weird."

"Maybe we should check on him," suggested Mist.

"I don't know...he might snap at us."

Ike hesitated. He listened for any hint of a response from Soren, and after some silence, said, "You didn't see it coming, I know. I didn't either." Soren lifted his head and bleakly gazed at the window right of the table. Ike leaned against the door. "Maybe now's the time to confess. I mean...now that it's been brought up, it might be an ideal opportunity to..." He trailed off.

Below, everyone could only hear distorted words. Oscar had stopped eating and proceeded to only turn his head here and there. He watched Titania stand up with an empty bowl and put it on a counter, then walk up the stairs where Ike was.

The commander was still leaning against the door, his ear pressed against it.

"...Soren?"

"Ike?"

Ike glanced at Titania, not knowing that Soren was now silently striding to the door. "Wait a minute, Titania." Just as the last syllable passed his lips the door pulled open. Ike fell down.

Soren stared, pitifully dumbfounded for not expecting it. Titania looked at Ike and then the mage.

"Um..." Titania glanced at Ike again.

The man pushed himself back up, straightening his back. He noticed that Soren was too disoriented to respond normally.

"It's okay," he said, his hand held up, to save Soren the trouble of fumbling with a frustrated apology. Soren stepped aside to allow Ike into the room, but blocked the way for Titania.

"Soren," she began sternly, "as Deputy Commander, I _will_ be given the situation and handle it."

But such intimidation was nullified by time. After being with the mercenaries for quite some time, Soren could not be even slightly disturbed by neither the paladin's height nor the harsh voice that matched her emerald eyes. Soren glanced down apologetically and closed the door. There Titania stood, simply staring at the wood, before letting out a slow breath and resigning to the kitchen.

Soren stared at Ike from the door, then went to his bed and sat. Ike stood in the middle of the room. What followed was simply a few seconds of lost, wordless silence.

"...Well?"

The ruby-eyed man stared down at his lap away from Ike. This must've been the most awkward moment of his life. Ike tilted his head after speaking, trying to see Soren's tired and helpless expression.

"Should we tell them?"

Soren gazed blankly at the backs of his hands.

"I mean...you can trust them, too." Ike seated himself in the chair. "They're our friends. Keeping this secret with just me won't be enough." The man with the sapphire eyes watched as his friend raised his head and looked at him, the face revealing the hints of anxiety.

"They're not like you," he answered quietly.

"It's not like Shinon will actually shoot you."

"It isn't that. I don't even know very much about what I am. What am I to expect, Ike?"

"Soren," Ike quickly cut in, "now that it's been brought up, there's no avoiding it." He noticed that the pitch and speed was steadily rising. He had to end this argument quickly. Fortunately, he knew Soren all too well. "This is really unhealthy, you know. Shutting yourself away like this..."

Soren turned his head aside. "I...can't tell them," he mumbled, and his voice was too quiet for Ike to discern.

Then Ike began the begging complaints. "But Soren! You'll do nothing but sulk. It'll bring down the company's performance, especially when they're focused on getting the answer out of you. And I'll be completely distracted, worrying about you, and Mist will worry and start bugging me." He paused. "...Listen, Soren. I can't have you going through this pain. You're going to have me start stalking your shadow, like you do to me whenever you see me in pain." Ike leaned forward once Soren looked at his own lap and sighed. "Got it?" Again, the silence came, soon stirred by the warrior's lowered voice. "We...we still have long lives ahead of us." He shifted on his elbows. "And if none of them know, someday you'll end up hurting yourself. I can't let the company go through that. Or you."

Soren looked at him -- now with sadness. Everything he had said seemed to have an impact. Perhaps the wrong kind. But Soren, in all his apathetic wisdom and empathetic observation, knew it was true. To Ike, Soren appeared as an abused dog forced into the corner, growling feebly out of fear. But like the person offering aid he walked over to the mage and knelt below his level. He looked up with a calm but concerned expression. Success. Soren seemed to relax.

Yet he tensed again when someone's fist thudded against the door.

"Is everything okay?" asked Oscar, with the seven others behind him. Suddenly Soren could sense them all standing there. He became more aware of the sensations that sweeped over him -- the radiating signatures of their auras or spirits. Such a thing did not apply to just people, either. It also seemed to apply to places.

Both of them looked at the door.

Ike hesitantly glanced back at Soren. "...Now's a good time."

Thus he stared back, just as silent as before, and Soren opened his mouth and said, "...Please tell them for me. I...couldn't face it."

Ike nodded, rose, and went to the door as Oscar gently beat on the door. Soren fell into his pillow, enduring all of his anguish and confusion.

* * *

The waxing moon rose high. Drowsiness flooded the fort. But tonight, they would not sleep. The Greil Mercenaries congregated within the fireplace room as Boyd was feeding logs from the stockpile outside to the fire.

Though their response to the truth was grave speechlessness, they had nudged it aside for something more important.

"Is anyone cold?"

Some shook their heads at Ike, who stood in front of the window left of the fireplace. They were still in simple, almost peasant-like clothing, but no one liked to do everything in armor. Mist and Rolf sat in the settee between Titania and Soren, wrapped in the brown blanket. Boyd went to sit near Titania on the couch's right arm. Everyone else was sitting on the floor, although Gatrie stood behind the settee, leaning on it. Mia's eyes were glazed with sleepiness like Mist and Rolf.

Ike slowly walked to the other window, staring at the floor.

"...Daein is up to something."

"Yes sir," Titania flatly replied. Ike began walking back and forth across the fire's light.

We don't know what."

"Yes sir."

"And we don't know why."

"Yes sir."

"Soren!" He stopped in front of the fire, his head swinging around to the tactician. "What do you suggest?"

Soren blinked only blankly for that instant, startled. Ike could see he was still distracted. "What do you suggest?"

Then the tactician realized he had to get back into the formal mood. As bluntly as he usually would, Soren said, "We're still mercenaries. Until a declaration has been officially made to influence further decision, I propose we scout the forest for suspicious activity."

Ike crossed his arms and stared at the ground, continuing to pace. "Captain Titania...what has happened over the course of previous encounters?"

"Here, we fought wyvern riders and Zelia's troupe. Very shortly after, we were called to Melior in order to defend the castle from a group of Daeins and seemingly feral laguz."

"And why us?"

"The nation is still recuperating from its heavy losses to, specifically, Daein," explained Soren. Everyone watched Ike with stiff postures, although Mist and Rolf were half-asleep. "They were not planning to involve any militia or numbers of Crimeans, relying instead on mercenaries and an experienced group of their Royal Guard."

"Right. So what is Daein's status?"

"Completely unknown. Undecided. Begnion has set forth nothing for it."

Ike shook his head and stopped by the fireplace's left window. "If that's the case... Greil Mercenaries!"

"Commander!" they rang back in unison, even Rolf and Mist. But, of course, not Shinon.

"We rise early tomorrow for patrol duty! Un-der-stood?"

"Yes, Commander!"

"Right then. Bedtime, everyone. You too, Soren, no late night work."

Soren stared with his usual solid face and said nothing.


	6. V :: Sorrowful Galdr

**Chapter 5: Sorrowful Galdr**

Ike stretched and kicked his white blanket out of the way, then threw his legs over the edge and slipped off the bed. The sun had broken the horizon almost half an hour ago. Though tired, he always had that feeling, so he simply waved it off and wandered out of the room, thinking to take care of a little business first. Ike headed downstairs, forgetting at first everything that had happened last night. As he went into Soren's corridor and down the stairs into the kitchen, however, it came to him in a silent rush and he stopped in the middle of the kitchen, wondering if he should see if Soren was okay. The mage should've been awake at this time. Ike went out of the kitchen and blinked hard.

Soren was standing down in the entrance, facing away from Ike, arms crossed and body turned as usual, head directed to the outside with his ruby gaze cast far. Ike could see he was in his second set of robes. The sleeves and collar were larger. There was no cape, but rather a red strap around the collar and streaming down the back. In place of sandals were brown boots, and white leggings were donned. Of course the hairstyle was the same -- parted by two golden hairbands, then joining into one ponytail lower down by a third band. The robe was purple with darker trim and patterns the same shade, a pattern he could find on Soren's other robe sets. It was an arc with three bars ringed by another greater arc, often on the corner of the torso or the front wing of the lower section. This robe had four wings or sections. Around the waist was a yellow sash and a turquoise one.

Soren didn't seem to notice him. Ike strode further into the room toward him, and then the staff officer turned his head, blinking at Ike almost sleepily. He didn't put any effort into hiding his drowsiness. Ike assumed he was too distracted to cloak his facial expression, waving silently. Soren waved back with a lazy sweep of his hand.

"What are you doing?" Ike asked as he came up. Soren looked back to the outside.

"Surveying our surroundings, waiting for the others to get up, and to start scouting when you order it."

"Ah, right...the mission..."

The warrior yawned, shutting his eyes for a moment. "Man...you sure know how to get ready... I'll get my armor on. You're not going to wander off anywhere, are you?"

"Don't be ridiculous..."

"Sounds just like you." Ike walked away, thinking that Soren was back to normal for the time being, and headed for the armory room where their weapons and armors were stored. His body ached and he was still trying to find his footing. Waking up was supposed to be refreshing. Unfortunately, this was not exactly a happy waking-up. It was another tiresome morning, and not the best kind to have right before a mission in the forest. He knew this.

His stomach was empty. Ike hoped that Oscar was awake right now and would cook something soon, but he didn't mind if it was Mist instead. Mist had certainly gotten better at cooking than she was a year and a half ago. As he came into the room, he saw Oscar flexing an arm, standing in full body armor except the helmet. The armor was green with interesting gold lines along the edges, like small triangles on the corners of his chestplate. From his shoulders was a golden cape that gave him almost his own regal appearance. Oscar lowered his arm and smiled at Ike, peering through those squinted eyes of his.

"Good morning, Commander."

"Good morning, Oscar. Boyd or Rolf awake yet?"

"Nope. Still asleep."

Ike nodded, then went around looking for his suit among what hung from the wall or on racks.

Meanwhile, Oscar left the room to go outside for a moment. He made himself familiar with the feel of armor on his shoulders again, walking down the hallway, looking at the staircase on the other end, then turning right and toward the lobby. Once in the lobby he floated left to the entrance. "Good morning, Soren." The knight walked past Soren without getting a greeting back. Oscar went to the forest, out of view of anyone looking from the fort, and looked around for a spot.

Soren eyed the skies somewhat warily. In his passive state he was more sensitive to the signatures radiating from everything around him, and he had a faint feeling that someone was approaching in the air. Although he couldn't recognize it, he certainly knew it was in the air and it was coming.

Shinon and Gatrie were in the fireplace room, still trying to wake up. Gatrie heaved a great sigh. Mostly, he was just bored. Shinon was in the same state but said nothing of it, holding his quiver in his hands with his bow in his lap. He was in full garb but Gatrie had not put his armor on yet. He wore very heavy armor. Not even on the couch would he wear that lump of steel.

Titania was in the study, though it was more of a mini-library. There were still several bookshelves standing around from the first time the fort was built. The study sat north of the armory on the left side of the hallway, whereas the armory was on the right side. She sat in a chair next to a desk that was set against the southern wall, a book open in front of her, and no one but her would've known that the book was titled, Laguz, an Other Half. Nor would they have known she was reading it to figure out the blood of a particular someone. Titania knew how to read when she was a citizen of Crimea, taught by someone most knowledgeable.

What she did not know, however, was that Rhys stood just outside the door, glancing in every now and then to catch hints of what she was doing. He was going to greet her with a good morning and whatnot but he was intrigued with her activity. Especially reading this book, it was a curious thing.

From that distance Rhys could not see the very words that her eyes passed over. He wished he could get closer, just to glimpse what she was reading, but it was likely she would shut the book as soon as he stepped in. So instead, Rhys clung to the wall, glancing in every now and then.

In the fireplace room, someone suddenly leapt up next to Shinon.

"Hel-LO mister wonderful!"

"Waaah!" Shinon flinched and drew away from Boyd, who sat next to the settee arm, grinning happily. Shinon began to splutter. "You -- you -- Boyd, you -- Argh." He slapped his hand over his forehead and closed his eyes. "_Please_. I'm very tired and irritable. This is not a good time to be jumping people."

"It's almost time for the mission!" Boyd exclaimed, bouncing a little. "Come on, you guys should get ready!"

"You just got out of bed," Shinon groaned. "What gives you the right to tell us to get ready?"

"And how come you're a morning person all of a sudden?" Gatrie added, leaning forward to get a better look at Boyd. The man simply grinned further.

"I don't know, but I feel _great_! Come on, let's get dressed!"

And out went Boyd, almost dancing his way out.

Rolf yawned and stretched in his bed, blinking sleepily around at the empty beds around him. Too drowsy to move his head fell back into its pillow.

"RHYYYYS! RHYYYYS!"

The priest jumped and swung around as Mia ran down the hallway toward him, looking very excited that it was morning. Titania slammed the book shut and put it down, looking up to see Mia throwing her arms around Rhys and flinging him around happily.

"Good morning! Good morning! Rise and shine!"

"Aah! G-good morning, Mia!"

The swordswoman released him and looked into the study. "Good morning, Titania!" she cried with a jolly wave of her hand.

Titania smiled and said, "Good morning, Mia. You're always so cheerful in the morning."

"Sure am! Is everyone ready for the mission?"

"I-I suppose so," Rhys gasped as he pulled himself away. "Yes -- I am ready."

"As am I," Titania replied as she took up the book and went to put it away. Its original place was deeper in the room so neither would see where she would replace it. "We should go out, a little bit of breakfast might be left for us."

Rhys was in his robes, which were white and lined in blue, very much in the design of a bishop's robe. Mia and Titania still had to change from simple clothing to battle garb. They were taking their time though, as they knew Ike wouldn't issue the command to begin the mission so soon without food. Titania was soon out. Mia was dragging Rhys after her.

Back in the kitchen, Oscar was speaking with Ike next to Soren.

"There isn't much food left. Seems that we'll end up either marching back to the market or living off salted meat for a while. It's either one; what do you think?"

"We can afford food at the market, but should there be an emergency, we should save the money for supplies in the case of sudden warfare," Soren answered flatly without even hesitating. Ike appeared to notice this strange talent of thinking in less than half a second.

"Don't you ever wait to think, Soren?" Ike asked.

"I do think," Soren answered somewhat cautiously.

"I'm sorry, it's not an insult! You just answer so quickly it makes me feel stupid."

"What? No -- "

"I'm joking, I'm joking. You'd just tell me I'm not stupid anyway. And, well, I don't know how to put it..." He shrugged. "...but I really appreciate your constant support."

Oscar smiled. "You two are very close."

"We're like brothers," Ike replied lighteheartedly. "But I'm the big brother in this relationship."

Awkwardly, Soren just blinked in silence.

"Ah, being the big brother is a cruel and harsh responsibility. I should know!"

"Nah, Soren's a _good_ little brother. Aren't you a good little brother, Soren? Aren't you? _Aren't you?_"

Ike wrapped his arm around Soren's neck and rubbed his knuckles against his head. Soren grunted and tried to pull Ike's arm off, but his own small strength was far outmatched by Ike's build.

"Aww, that's so cute," Titania said as she walked in. Ike looked up, caught off guard, and Soren slipped out of his grip. He flattened his hair with a look of mild annoyance. "So, Oscar, do we have anything left?"

The green knight nodded and said, "Enough for all of us to have a little before it empties. We've got to get more food quickly. It may be spring, but winter just ended and it's still a little cold, so most of our effort has to stay with finding food."

"Agreed," Ike said. "Let's eat up before we get going." He sniffed out the remainder of soup in the pot ahead, a fire glowing just below it. Titania sat somewhere other than her usual seat, and that was right of Ike's. Soren settled in the same one as always. Oscar sat next to Titania and waited for the soup to warm up as Boyd bounced in, all geared up as though they were marching into battle. He had the furs, the steel, and even the helmet was on his head. Boyd grinned and bounded to Soren, then sat down, drumming the table with his hands.

"You look peppy today," Oscar commented. "Has something happened?"

"Nope! I just feel great!"

"That's unexpected," Titania said, smiling in his direction. Mia came in and plopped down next to Oscar, putting Rhys in the seat beside her. Gatrie came in scratching his back, yawning, but he gave a wave to everyone in the room and sat down next to Rhys. They sat around like this, talking to each other, Soren being withdrawn as usual, Ike prodding him to talk, Titania discussing things with Oscar, Gatrie engaged in conversation with Mia and Rhys, and Boyd also prodding Soren to talk. The smoke from the fire rolled out of the two windows next to the kitchen's fireplace through which faint sunlight drifted. As the broth steadily grew hotter and hotter, Mist too came in and settled herself next to Boyd, looking tired but certainly as content as usual. At that point Oscar stood up to check on the soup. He stirred it with the ladle, leaning over it whilst the others continued what they did, Titania now watching Ike and Boyd attempt to get Soren to crack. It looked like an amusing game to her that Soren wasn't quite enjoying. Rolf and Shinon soon came in, Shinon beside Gatrie and Rolf beside him.

Oscar started bringing bowls to each individual. They were small plain bowls with little bits of soup in them, but for these mercenaries, it was good enough to call breakfast. Mist stood up and decided to help by passing out the spoons.

Boyd poked Soren in the head.

"I'll bite you," Soren decided to reply, glaring at him, and Boyd drew back from his hard crimson glare. Ike laughed.

"Going laguz on him?"

Soren looked at him with an eyebrow raised, but Ike patted his shoulder to let him know he was taking it lightly. Soren just found it very awkward at this point.

"Seriously though, get into some conversation. All you really do is sit there and stare around at everyone. Come on -- we should enjoy ourselves before we really get serious."

"What is there to talk about?" Soren answered flatly. Ike shrugged.

"Anything, really. Like..." He looked around for something to talk about, then said, "When Rolf'll show Shinon up."

"I heard that!" Shinon snapped, suddenly glaring in their direction.

Boyd chuckled and said, "The squirt's never going to be better than me, though. He can't hold an axe!"

"He makes a better archer," Titania pointed out. Boyd blinked.

"I don't need bows..."

"So you'll depend on handaxes?" Soren added, looking at Boyd. "You can only throw them once until you pick them up again..."

"Whatever," said Boyd, poking Soren in the shoulder now. "At least I can take a hit."

"Are you suggesting I can't stand up to a blow?"

"Yes I am."

"If you ever consider a training session with me, I can show you a thing or two."

"Sounds like a challenge!" spoke Rhys cheerily. "You might want to back down, Boyd. Magic is a dangerous thing."

"Hah! Nothing's more dangerous than a heavy chunk of sharpened steel!"

"Someone agrees with me," said Titania, but Shinon shook his head.

"That's all pointless if you're being attacked from a distance. All that we need is a longbow and none of you can get back at us," he stated as Oscar was putting a bowl down in front of Titania. Mist was already done placing spoons and went back to her seat.

Rolf eagerly nodded and said, "Yeah!"

"Can anyone fight faster than me, though?" Mia asked, looking around in a challenging manner. "Come on. Who's faster than me?"

"Me!" went Shinon.

"So not! I am," Ike answered.

Boyd just poked Soren in the head as though suggesting the mage should say something. Soren just slapped his hand.

"I bet I could match you," Titania replied.

"When I'm not in armor, I'm a speedy guy myself!" boasted Gatrie, and Mist giggled.

"You always have to wear your armor," she said.

"She makes a good point, Gatrie," commented Ike.

"Ike!"

All heads turned to Soren, who had uttered this stunning exclamation, and then their heads followed his to gaze to the entrance of the fort where two herons stood in the morrow light. Though their soft elegant wings would have normally been a regal white in the sun's glow, the egrets were touched by the red and orange of the steady sunrise, their golden hairs fluttering in the gentle breeze and their emerald eyes gleaming softly beneath their glittering bangs. One was taller and in a fine white robe whilst the other wore a billowing dress. They were Leanne and Reyson, the survivors of the Serenes Royal Family.

"Ah-ah!" cried Leanne, holding out her hand hesitantly and waving like a child would. "He...hello...!"

The mercenaries blinked or their skulls twitched on their necks, but a few smiled and waved back.

Ike was one of them. "Goodness. What can they be doing here? Reyson, Leanne! Come in!"

Reyson bowed his head and waved back, then stepped in with his sister following him. The two herons gracefully entered the kitchen with their elegant and dainty gaits. Soren compared their wings, noticing that the feathers on Leanne's wings were still softer than the ones on Reyson's.

"How are you, Ike?" Reyson asked kindly. It seemed the prince had finally warmed up to the beorc race -- or at least, this entire company of mercenaries.

"I've been well these past moons. And you, Reyson -- how do you and your sister fare?"

"Quite healthy. King Caineghis's generosity and the flourishing forest have both given us hope and driven us on. Father is finally regaining color to his face as well."

"Lord Lorazieh?" Titania replied, quite glad to hear this. "That's great news!"

"Hi Reyson! Hi Leanne!" Mist said excitedly, jumping up. Oscar was still putting bowls out but cast to the herons his ever-friendly smile. Soren stared and Shinon gazed blankly to a random direction while Boyd and Gatrie looked up almost eagerly to the pair. Rolf timidly waved.

In addition to Mist's greeting, Mia couldn't help but say, "Heya guys! It's great to see you're doing good!"

"I'm pleased to see you are enthusiastic about our visit," Reyson answered somewhat thankfully, a smile crossing his face.

"Yep! I was worried about you, but you look fine to me!" said Mist, then she said, "So your father's getting better? That's really great! And how's the medallion?"

In an instant Reyson's smile was chased off the pale glory of his face. The dim light that his skin seemed to emanate appeared to darken.

Mist stopped and looked at him. "...Huh? What's wrong?"

"The medallion..." he answered quietly. "It's been very chaotic, recently..."

Ike frowned, turning in his seat. "Chaotic, Reyson?"

The egret prince nodded. "Yes. Every day and every night it glows, violently screaming. With you, Mist, you have only heard its mysterious hum. But it screams to us, and it has been doing this for the past few weeks. The medallion is almost alive in itself. It seems to wake and sleep some times, whether or not we are around."

The commander quietly listened and contemplated. Contemplation was written all over the staff officer's face. Ike said, "Did you come to any others first?"

"I went to King Tibarn," replied Reyson, "even though he knew nothing of it. Then I went to King Caineghis, then King Naesala, but I could not find Lord Deghinsea of Goldoa. Nor did I find Prince Kurthnaga."

"Really? Hm...strange. Did you have any troubles in Goldoa?"

"No, none. The dragons know us and respect us. As you should know, they are known for their longevity."

Ike bowed his head. He shifted his hand, which bumped into a bowl that was just suddenly there. He glanced down in mild surprise and then back up to Reyson and Leanne. Leanne, who was standing silently beside -- almost behind -- her brother, seemed stricken with worry. Soren's expression was nearly blank in his cloud of thought.

"So you couldn't find any of them...?"

"None, not even Gareth."

Ike blinked at Reyson. "Who's Gareth?"

"He is a red dragon, the assistant of Prince Kurthnaga and his father."

"Red dragon...red dragon..." Ike pondered for a moment, then a memory lit up in his head. "Ah! I remember him!"

"What of Ena or Nasir?" Titania asked, wanting to know their status.

"They must have gone elsewhere, as I could not locate them either," Reyson replied with a sad shake of his head. "I am... I do not know how to express my confusion..." Leanne looked up just as sadly at her brother, wishing she could relieve him of his worries. But she too was plagued by them.

"Well...have you noticed any other strange activity?" Ike inquired, frowning.

"No, nothing else."

"We have. Daein doesn't appear to be up to any good. We've had some Daein groups attack us and Crimea, and it seems some wild laguz were on their side."

"What?" Reyson's brow furrowed at this. "The Daeins? And by 'wild' laguz, do you mean..."

Ike nodded gravely. "The Feral Ones, I fear."

Silence befell the two laguz. Though this news was not too devastating to the mercenaries, it was certainly a hit to them. Reyson and Leanne were laguz, the singers of their brethren -- healers, pacifists, and fliers of honored grace. Their brethren were warriors and guardians, powerful symbols who would stand for the family of Serenes, and those brethren were many of the laguz. To hear their fellows being forced the maddening elixirs and toxins once again was unpleasant. A faint anger crossed Reyson's white face, and he dragged his green gaze away from Ike to the fireplace down the table.

Mist was sympathetic. "We'll get to the bottom of this, don't you worry."

"Are you two hungry?" offered Oscar. "We might have some fruits for you."

Leanne shook her head. "Not hungry," she replied carefully.

"That's alright, then."

"We're scouting the forest soon," Ike explained, attempting to distract their minds from this news. "We'll leave others behind to keep watch over you two. Make yourself at home, okay?"

Reyson nodded rather stiffly, the light shining against his golden bangs. "Thank you, Ike."

Oscar seated himself. "Would you like to sit down?"

"Well, yes. That would be nice..."

Mist and Rolf pulled empty chairs back for the two, and Reyson rested next to Rolf while Leanne went to Mist. Their wings delicately folded behind them as to avoid an uncomfortable position in the chairs.

Soren stared down at his soup for some reason, appearing lost somewhere. Ike tried to help him find his way back by tapping him on the shoulder. Though the mage looked up for one brief moment, he simply went back to staring at the soup, not even touching the spoon nor making any motion to eat in any way.

The others went to eating what was in front of them.

"So, Reyson...has anything interesting happened while we were out of contact?" Titania asked him. The egret prince glanced at her, contemplated for a moment, then nodded.

"Actually, yes. Do you remember Ulki and Janaff, the eyes and ears of the hawk king?"

"Yes..."

"It seems that Ulki fell ill not too long ago. Pity..." He frowned, not looking so pleased. "Gloom awaits us this year, it seems."

"It can't get too much worse," commented Ike. "After the war, all we've got to look forward to is rebuilding the rest of what was destroyed. Right?"

Reyson sighed, his gaze straying off to the side. "I suppose so."

Shinon gave a prominent "hrmph". Ike took a sip of his soup before saying, "You have something to say?"

"Yeah, I do. What makes you think it'll be all good after the war was done?"

"Well..."

"You haven't changed a bit, have you...? Listen. That's not enough to make sense. Not all the bad in the world's gonna vanish after a war like that, no matter how much you want to think that."

"I know," Ike answered with a blink. "But we don't have much choice except fix everything afterwards, do we?"

"Tell that to Daein."

"It's not entirely the fault of Daein," Titania cut in disapprovingly. "Shinon, how can you possibly say that after you attempted to join them during the war?"

"Well -- hey! I was just trying to make a living, all right?" The sniper frowned and leaned back in his chair.

Mist was contemplating what to say while Rolf offered, "It'll be okay. Whatever the problem, the Greil Mercenaries will be there to take care of it! Right, Ike?"

"Of course," Ike answered affirmitively. Gatrie clapped his hands together once in such a bang that most of them jumped.

"What less noble deed have we ever committed? Such a question is out of the question, dear Rolf! For this lovely girl here," he cried, looking toward Leanne, "we would do anything! _Anything at all!_"

"Oh stop it," Mia said playfully with a light smack on his arm.

Soren leaned over unusually close to Ike. The commander looked at him, oblivious to this odd gesture, and as soon as Soren's head touched his arm he realized that Soren was looking at the bowl in front of him. Ike looked at it. His bowl wasn't finished. He then glanced at Soren's bowl and saw it looked completely clean, as if there was never any soup in it at all. Soren instantly seemed to vanish and was upright in his seat again.

"Oh! Right!" suddenly exclaimed Ike. "We need to get to the mission, so eat up quick!"

"O-kay!" replied Mia, and Titania nodded in response. Rhys exhaled a sigh after his silence and went to his soup, for he had not eaten any of it throughout the conversation. Shinon quietly went to his. Gatrie gulped his down eagerly while Boyd just shrugged and finished the last of his. Rolf was trying to get what the spoon could not, tipping the bowl for the liquid to drip into his mouth. Soren waited silently. Ike was eating his as quickly as possible, with Reyson and Leanne simply sitting there, watching as though they were accustomed to it. This would have been odd but then the two could have watched the hawks or Gallians eat. Savage behavior, after all, was a mere mortal habit to behold at the table. Ike wished he had stored some fruit for them.

Soren flattened his hair, wanting to make sure no strands were stray. Then he stood up with his double-one ponytail swaying behind him and stepped aside, pushed the chair in, then left the room in a patient stride as the red strap from his neck danced behind him.

A few of the mercenaries watched him go. Rolf took his bowl to the counter, then ran forward to retrieve Soren's. Gatrie rose followed by Rhys and Titania. Mist was soon done with hers as the others did their business, putting their bowls off to the counter, then Ike and Shinon were done. Boyd looked at Mia as she finished her soup after he did. He just sat there though, lazily tapping his fingers against the surface as bowls were placed near the fireplace and people scattered. Some went to equip their armor. The others went outside, where Soren had sat at the entrance on his legs until they came by, moving him aside. Oscar took Boyd's bowl for him. Then Boyd shot up and bounced out, which was a gesture that Oscar couldn't quite translate.

Oscar, Titania, Mia, Gatrie, Shinon, Rolf, and Mist had gone off either to obtain the rest of their stuff or to start getting ready. Of course they wouldn't change in the same room. They went to separate places to change -- Mist to her room, Rolf to his, Shinon in the study, and Titania and Mia went up to their rooms. Gatrie stayed in the armory chamber. Oscar only needed his helmet before leaving the fort.

Ike was with Rhys, Soren, Reyson, Leanne, and Boyd just outside the entrance. Oscar joined them.

"We'll each scout different paths. Reyson, Leanne, you two are better off staying here, so some of us will stay behind to keep you two safe."

"Oh no, that is not necessary," Reyson replied rather sheepishly, but Ike waved it off.

"I insist."

They waited patiently until, one by one, emerged Titania, Mia, Mist, Gatrie, Rolf, and Shinon. Each gathered with the others in a small group.

Ike projected his voice to and over every person present. "All right. A small force needs to keep Reyson and Leanne guarded here. The rest will go out and scout the forest as planned, and when we're done, we will meet back here. Who will stay behind?"

"I will!" Mia volunteered.

Mist added, "Me too," with a nod.

Titania glanced around and with an unwavering expression of solemnity said, "As will I."

"Why not me as well?" Gatrie commented.

Rhys issued his own blunt nod. "I'll only hold you back, so I'll stay here."

"Bah." Shinon looked at Gatrie somewhat disdainfully. "I guess I'll keep my place." He preferred not to be on the same side of the mission as Ike, whether or not Gatrie was.

Rolf blinked, said, "Huh?" then quickly threw in, "Me too!"

Boyd cast an awkward expression toward the commander. It seemed that people were just following each other around, but with Leanne and Reyson present, there was no reason to speak against it. Ike simply shrugged in response.

That would leave them with him, Soren, Boyd, and Oscar. A uniquely small group for surveying the forest.

"Um...are you all sure you want to stay?" Ike said with a raised brow.

"You're not gonna let the _men_ walk off on ya, are ya?" Boyd teased, which was answered by Titania's hard glare and Mia's taunting bounce.

"Oh so _now_ Soren's a man," said Mia. A few of them chuckled.

"More than half the group's staying behind just to watch Reyson and Leanne," Oscar pointed out, attempting to draw attention away from their poor victim. "Will you all?"

"I should as deputy," Titania explained.

"I'm no good with this scouting thing," Mist answered.

"Well, I guess I can come," said Mia with a cock of her head.

Reyson spoke before allowing anyone else to continue. "Wait -- please, Ike. You needn't go through all this trouble."

"Again, I insist," replied Ike, smiling a bit. Then his face stoned over beneath that warrior's glare. "Well! Is this the final decision?" Faced with some nodding and silence, he stepped back. "Very well. You keep watch over Reyson and Leanne. You others, let's move out. You'll be given specific directions when we go deeper, but for now, stay close."

Boyd rolled his eyes and groaned.

"Man. This is gonna be such a boring day."

* * *

Their eyes were greeted by a new guest upon return.

"Ike! Good to see you again!" exclaimed the tall king of Phoenicis, Tibarn. His vast brown wings stretched in greeting, casting a large shadow across the ground where the sun was right above their heads, close to approaching the west. Ike blinked hard, still somewhat surprised that King Tibarn was suddenly here. Reyson stood behind him.

"Oh, hello Tibarn."

"That's _King_ Tibarn to you," Reyson teased with a smile. Soren settled for the spot next to Ike and stood there.

"I see your little tactician's still following you around," Tibarn remarked, eyeing him. "How's life, kid?"

Soren hated being known as a child.

Boyd came up, sighing, his axe dragging along the ground. "Oh boy...I think all this energy this morning has me worn out..."

"Do you think the goddess was playing with your mind?" inquired Oscar as he followed. "It doesn't seem that Mia is this exhausted."

"Hi, hawk king!" Mia cried from behind Oscar, and waved jovially to the great laguz. He chuckled with a moderately deep voice and waved back, resting his hand against his waist.

Ike looked at Reyson, then at Tibarn with mounting curiosity. "First the herons, and now you... So what's your reason for visiting?"

Tibarn's face turned grave. Its masculine features, often friendly and warm, had now hardened to the warrior's glare that he was born to have. The shaggy brown hair, red headband, and scars were the same. Even the darkness of the eyes were the same, and yet something cruel had reshaped them. The mercenaries facing him each noticed this odd change.

"Reason. Something the Begnions lack," he muttered. "How long have they had warships?"

"Warships?" Ike echoed, then glanced at Soren. "Warships, Soren?"

Unfortunately, the staff officer, standing in his purple robes with the red strap swaying behind, was silent. Ike pressed his brow down in thought. He glanced up, looking over the others who had accompanied him on the scouting mission.

"Have any of you heard about this?"

"No, not at all," said Oscar.

At the same time Mia replied, "No."

Around there Boyd added, "I didn't know about any warships..."

Soren was again contemplating in his usual quiet state. While they stood around, glancing at each other and muttering random comments, Titania emerged from the fort with Rhys, Mist, and Leanne.

"Ah, yes. King Tibarn came while you were all off on the mission."

"Did he tell you about the warships?" Ike inquired, and the captain nodded.

"I'm afraid so. It seems Begnion has developed a way to fight on sea without taking it to the decks. Cannons below to destroy other ships..."

They gathered a bit closer near the fort entrance.

"Cannons? Isn't that still a crude weapon?" said Oscar, frowning a bit.

Titania nodded but soon said, "They must have refined it and made it more useful for ships."

"Those Begnion dastards have been blasting away at my island," Tibarn growled, glowering down. Mia cringed a little. Tibarn didn't seem to take notice, even when Mist hid close to Ike. "No sensible motive. They're just blasting away. I don't see why, but I'm not going to wait for a reason if they keep this up."

"How long have they been doing it?" Ike asked.

"For the past two weeks, we've had to wait out almost four assaults." Tibarn's hand, stiff as though preparing to wring someone's neck, tensed even more so that the bone seemed to extrude. "What are they thinking? I've been nice so far, keeping my hawks back, but they're crossing the line... I know, we've wronged them in the past. But aren't we over that?" He growled. "Oh, of course not! Begnion beorc never learn! Their high and mighty attitude leads them to believe they have nothing to forgive or apologize for!"

"Whoa, whoa, easy there," Ike cautioned, trying to calm the king. "Maybe we can sort this out inside. Let's get in, shall we?"

"...Very well," Tibarn muttered, mostly distracted by his anger. The group was led in by their blue-haired warrior into the lobby. Ike invited Tibarn to sit on the couch, but the hawk waved it off and Ike sat down instead with Titania on his right and Mist on the left. Soren stood behind the couch instead between Ike and Mist.

"Warships..." muttered Titania in wonder. "That would put all the coasts of Tellius in danger... And no one would be able to fight back."

Soren looked over the group. Begnion didn't have a complete grip on Daein. The Daeins were still resisting their hands, trying to keep the country as their own. If Begnion has warships, it could land blows on Daein anytime it was allowed, and Daein wouldn 't be able to fight back. Though they could attack only the coasts, they could still come into the kingdom from more sides. If he remembered the map correctly then Daein wouldn't actually have much of a coast except for north of Tellius and from the Semper Lake southeast of Daein. It would be too inconvenient launching attacks from the north and it would be more of a waste of time assaulting the kingdom from the lake.

That could only mean the ships were meant for the bird isles south. They were completely surrounded by water and an attack was possible on every side. The laguz could be driven and trapped in the center, either slaughtered or captured with ease. Yes, they could simply fly over the beorc. Even so, if they did not avoid the arrows, ballistae, magic, and perhaps even the cannons if their range was enough, then the birds would face a great hazard to their population and homeland.

There was enough logic concerning the relationship between Begnion and the isles. Begnion and Phoenicis were not very inclined to be friendly toward one another, while Kilvas was simply a nuisance to every passerby over sea. If he could recall properly, Soren remembered a piece of Tellius history that included the war that Begnion issued to Crimea and Daein in an attempt to reclaim its old territories, which the two kingdoms were.

It was a possibility that Begnion intended to invade Tellius again.

However, there remained the matter of Daein and the feral laguz. Concentration was deep in Soren's face as he pretended to watch Tibarn, mostly staring as the hawk king paced impatiently.

"Care for a rest?" Ike inquired, wishing he knew some other way to help King Tibarn. The hawk shook his head.

"No, no. I expect others to be coming as well."

"Others?" Ike blinked and turned to Reyson and Leanne off the side. Reyson simply shook his head in response. It didn't appear as though he had expected visitors other than himself and his sister.

* * *

More chairs had been filled for the night. Janaff and Ulki were not with Tibarn so that Phoenicis would be less suspicious of his absence. Janaff and Ulki could simply use the excuse that Tibarn was on business elsewhere, and they wouldn't have to specify where. Still, the odd arrangement of visitors was something of an override to Soren, who couldn't plug his racing mind for one moment to even look focused.

"Soren."

The sage's arm jerked away from his spoon in the bowl, knocking the edge of the bowl and tipping. Ike and Soren stared for a moment as the bowl stumbled back into place.

"You're not looking so well," continued Ike while he redirected his concerned gaze to Soren. "Are you all right?"

Soren stared back at him. At the moment he was a bit muddled, what with his identity being exposed and all of this chaos bubbling to the surface of their lives. Soren's hand unconsciously tugged on a bang in an attempt to hide the mark on his forehead. He wasn't wearing his black and yellow robes, so he didn't have a hood to pull over his head. That would've been conspicuous anyway at the dinner table.

Tibarn wasn't eating a thing. He was leaning against the eastern wall, his arms crossed and his head hung with solemnity draped across his expression. Soren was on Ike's left again, and on down it went with Rhys, Reyson a seat away, Leanne, Gatrie, Shinon, then Oscar. Titania was at the other end. Coming back around sat Boyd, Rolf, Mia, and all the way down back to Ike's right was Mist. It was a rather large table, and a surprise that it could fit in the kitchen.

Everyone was having a little bit of soup though Reyson and Leanne were specifically found some strawberries. Tibarn claimed he wasn't hungry.

They lifted their heads to a roar outside and turned their heads, each one putting their spoons down as they gazed upon a rather burgundy lion at the entrance, whose skin was traced over with markings of a beast laguz and whose mane grew vast and wild like the Gallian forests. Caineghis slowly strode in heavily upon his four paws. He lifted his front paws and torso from the ground, the light of the torches shifting on his moving muscles, and the lion king was enveloped in the illumination and shattering sound of laguz transfomation as he stood taller and became bipedal. His lion ears shifted to the top of his head in the mass of reddish hair. His robes emerged from his skin and the frown upon his toughened face creased into a gentle smile at the mercenaries.

"Hi!" greeted Mist with a wave from her seat. She smiled at him along with others. Caineghis came into the kitchen, nodding at Ike respectfully.

Ike nodded back. "Welcome, King Caineghis."

Soren silently gazed at him. Caineghis gazed back, exploring the depths of Soren's crimson eyes for whatever he might be thinking.

Reyson would know. The heron had told Ike long ago that, when in peaceful conditions, a heron could read someone's mind with good effort. Reyson focused on the back of Soren's head for a moment before calmly stating, "Yes, King Gallia. You would have normally sent your shadow here to deal business."

The tactician quickly swung his gaze around to Reyson.

Caineghis's smile faded and he coupled that with a nod. "Yes, true. I have decided instead to leave Giffca behind in my place to compensate for my absence."

"As I've done with Janaff and Ulki," Tibarn cast in. "Good to see you've made it, lion king."

Caineghis nodded back with a bit of a grunt. He smiled in Titania's direction, who bobbed her head and smiled back. Shinon avoided making any eye contact whatsoever, as he was still not too fond of the beast laguz.

The sun had almost vanished from the horizon, leaving threads of light scattered throughout the realm. The room was somewhat stifled by the heat of the burning fireplace where an empty pot hung. Silence had settled somewhat awkwardly since most news were being kept until their last member arrived. The heat was putting several people to sleep, including Leanne, who rested her head against her brother's shoulder. Caineghis decided to stand next to Tibarn since the chairs looked rather small to the lion. The clinks of silverware and slurping of soup accompanied crackling fire and occasional sighs. When dinner was done, bowls were placed away, several words were exchanged, and Ike invited their visitors into the fireplace room to either discuss or simply hang out until their last visitor came. In truth, Ike didn't know what the silence was about. Soren had advised him someone else must be arriving before Soren had vanished to do something he never quite specified. The mercenaries scattered throughout the fort, tending to their own business.

Eventually, their answer was received. Titania strode into the fireplace room to see Ike pacing around as usual, Reyson and Leanne on the couch, Caineghis kneeling by the fireplace, and Tibarn leaning drowsily against the wall.

"Ike."

The commander turned his head to his deputy, expectance filling the void on his face.

"The King of Kilvas is here."

"I see. Let him come in."

"No need for that," a smoothly-toned voice deftly replied. Titania's head snapped to the side toward Naesala as she stepped out of the way. Surprise and a bit of indignation was visible in her expression, but the raven took no notice as he stepped into the room, brushing his hand up his forehead and over his hair. Soren was suddenly in the room, unconsciously flitting right past Naesala and bumping his elbow against the king's side. The staff officer quickly turned about with a step back as the raven glared down at the young man.

"Watch where you're going," he said coldly, and Soren replied with his own hollow glare.

"King Kilvas," growled the deep voice of the hawk king. "...Nice to have you here."

Soren and Titania retreated to Ike, who had stopped on the settee's right side. They each glanced to Tibarn in order to examine the subtle hints of indignation and reluctance in his face. Naesala transferred his sights to Tibarn as well, allowing a false gentle smile to pass over his face.

"Ah, my friend. Still so displeased with me?"

"It's only been a year," grumbled the hawk king. "You know how short that is for us bird laguz."

"So is anyone else coming?" Ike interrupted. He preferred not to have any more conflicts for a while.

Caineghis quietly shook his head and replied in a blunt tone, "No."

The three mercenaries seemed rather surprised at it, expressing it in different manners. "No one else?" asked Ike. "Not the king of Goldoa or anyone?"

"He's too busy being the high and mighty Black Dragon King to spend any time with us," Tibarn sulked as he slumped against the wall. "Bah... I don't see what's more dire than our meeting here..."

"Lighten up, hawk king," Naesala spoke with the same mocking smile. Reyson's face was hard as he stared at the flames of the fireplace, and Leanne was on her knees in the settee as she faced her body toward Naesala. While the raven was standing in the eastern doorway, Oscar and Rhys arrived from the hallway through the northern doorway. The two joined Ike.

Naesala inclined his head toward Reyson, recognizing the top of his head. "Hello, Reyson."

The heron said nothing although his sister didn't seem to be nearly as angry as him.

The crow's smile faltered when he saw Caineghis, whose expression could not be mistaken. Caineghis was not here for pleasantries and would not allow so many in such a meeting. Duty and solemnity glazed the face of the lion laguz, and his eyes had fired upon Naesala in a gesture to settle, be prepared to exchange information, and discuss it. Naesala huffed and turned his head away. He crossed his arms and withdrew his wings, already appearing somewhat uncomfortable with the environment.

"Okay, well...do you need everyone here?" Ike asked, glancing around at the laguz. They seemed to be having issues amongst their own kind already.

"Only those who must know are required," said Caineghis, pulling his glare away from Naesala.

Ike nodded. "I guess I can afford to let the others run around then." He glanced at Titania, who returned a concerned look, then glanced down at Soren though Soren seemed too distracted and nervous to notice Ike. The commander could understand why. He was still somewhat unsteady after the recent events that had occurred. "So what's this about?" he asked with a glance up at the firelit room.

Reyson wasn't quite ready to speak with Naesala in the room while Leanne could hardly say a thing in English. Naesala was acting clueless if not stubborn and Tibarn appeared he didn't want to speak first. Caineghis released a deep sigh, recognizing these signs, so he instead would speak first.

"...You see, we decided on a conference here with you, Ike, because you and your mercenaries would be gravely involved. I felt it best to pass information between our countries and your group."

"What? Why us?"

Caineghis grunted and closed his eyes, bowing his head, then flicked it up to toss a bit of hair away. His eyes opened toward the mercenaries bundled together.

"Not only are you mercenaries, you are well known throughout the continent. Perhaps you no longer wish to be involved with Tellius's entire events. But sooner or later, your fame will cost you."

Ike cast his eyes down and sighed. He had quite a few things to say, yet his mind answered all questions and doubts, keeping him silent in his reluctant truth.

"Yes... Which issue will we address first?"

"What a question you ask, lion king!" Tibarn scoffed with a grin. "It's Begnion we should talk about!"

With all gazes now upon Tibarn, Ike spoke, "Hm, yes. We've been discussing that dilemma for a while."

Bitterness fluttered through Reyson's face while his eyes drifted to the ground. Leanne seated herself more comfortably in the settee and glanced at him in concern. Naesala raised his eyebrows as if he had expected to hear Tibarn say this, while Rhys somewhat timidly drew his hands in and fumbled with his fingers.

"So, Begnion has done nothing about Daein," said Tibarn with mock indifference. "Even when it very much owns Daein now, nothing has been done about it. Any ideas why?"

"Well, the Daein citizens are not very accepting of Begnion's rule, so it constantly rebels against any attempt by Begnion to reclaim the Daein territories," Titania replied. "Begnion is at a standstill with Daein. If they sent anyone out to simply proclaim themselves the new ruler, more than likely the citizens would be thrown into a riot."

"Right."

"So Begnion's turned its attention back on Phoenicis? Is that it?" asked Ike disapprovingly.

Tibarn scowled at empty air. "Yep."

All heads were turned once again as Naesala chuckled, earning glares from Tibarn and Reyson. Leanne nervously glanced back to the burning hearth in front of her.

"Old grudges last quite long with you."

"King Kilvas, do not lose any more allies than those you lack now," Caineghis rumbled, which caused Naesala to frown and look away. It was true. Kilvas wasn't dealing with its bonds very well at the moment. Ike slid inconscpicuous glances back to Titania, then Soren, trading mutual comments that this was a very uneasy conference. Oscar bowed his head a tad and scratched the side of his head. Rhys continued to fiddle with his fingers.

"I'm gonna get you!" cried a voice from the east door. The group glanced through and saw Mia chasing Mist in, but the two abruptly stopped as soon as Mist stumbled past Naesala into the room with Mia right behind. They cast their flustered eyes around for a moment before realizing there was an important meeting going on. Mist, feeling intimidated, fled to Ike's side while Mia quietly followed.

Eyes solemnly drifted back near the center of the room.

"And Begnion has these...cannons..." Ike murmured. His face looked almost stiff from all of it. "Cannons on their ships...that they're using to attack Phoenicis with. What is their goal? What can they possibly gain?"

"A war," Tibarn immediately spat. "That's what they'll get. I've already sent in complaints to the Apostle over it. She's responded with things like, "I will look into this', or, 'I require further investigation', but has any of it changed? Certainly not."

Naesala rolled his eyes and sighed. "You're like Nealuchi, going on and on about one little thing..."

"Oh, and your behavior was no better in the past?" snarled the hawk king, glaring now indignantly in Naesala's direction. "Still pirating around my territory...I thought I've warned you enough times to stay out of my waters. Begnion's giving me enough grief about that."

Soren's sights were set upon the opposite wall, yet he questioned the bird laguz with, "Why Phoenicis? Why not Kilvas?"

Naesala stopped. His eyes swiftly snapped to Soren. The tactician was beginning to annoy him, and if he trespassed any boundaries, the raven would do something about it. "What are you getting at?"

Soren turned his head toward Naesala in the same melancholy manner his blunted voice suggested. "Kilvas is closer to Begnion, and a smaller territory as well. It would've been easier to conquer had that been Begnion's goal."

Titania blinked and glanced down. Naesala sighed as he shifted on his feet and looked to his left, reluctantly admitting that as insulting as this sounded, it was true. Caineghis cocked his head quite slightly in response.

"Possibly. But even if they captured Kilvas, of what purpose would it serve?" asked the lion king. "Would it be a base for launching attack upon Phoenicis next? Sending troops and supplies over would be too much of a hassle, and Phoenicians are likely to be hostile if Begnion settled upon Kilvas. They would be surrounded by water and hawks. Far and away to their stratagem, I would think. Attacking Phoenicis directly would not draw immediate interest of the ravens, if I interpret your motives correctly, Naesala, and yet sailing over to Phoenicis to attack, even with cannons, make fighting difficult because of position, numbers, and terrain."

"Yes -- so it can't be a matter of territory," Soren replied. "This is unusually near Goldoa's territory as well. If the chaos comes to the attention of the dragons, it could compel Goldoa to answer Begnion's aggressions. This too is beyond advantage."

Reyson suddenly sat up in the couch. "Chaos? The medallion..."

Rhys and Oscar suddenly came to attention. Mia blinked as Mist widened her eyes, and contemplation replaced the surprise in Ike's expression, while Soren shifted his eyes to the side without moving his head and Titania gazed toward the herons. Leanne turned to her brother.

Reyson bowed his head and relaxed. "The medallion. Could it be? Is this why it's been radiating with such energy lately? What can Begnion be aiming for...?"

"There can't be someone else mad enough to try and release the dark god, can there?" Ike asked incredulously.

The heron prince closed his eyes, placing a hand against his forehead and leaned his head down, pressing an elbow against his leg. His fingers grasped through his golden bangs. "If they were after territory...they would have their beorcs swarming through our forest... We have to go back, Leanne... Nijog ikeb ustatedi..."

"How long have they been testing their cannons?" Soren inquired suspiciously. "There's no sense in launching an assault with weapons that haven't been tested. I haven't heard anything over testing these cannons, and yet they attack the nation of hawks without proclamation, while endangering themselves to Goldoa's wrath. Unless they want to occupy our attention in a particular matter while they attack a greater one. This plan of theirs has not been well considered. Whatever the goal is, Phoenicis cannot be the sole victim. On that note Daein also appears to have a plot of its own and involves feral laguz."

"So I've heard," growled Caineghis. "The laguz of my tribe have been vanishing. I have also heard of the attacks made on Melior, as well as what you have suffered."

"It's mysterious," pondered Titania. "They sent an extremely small number to Melior's castle as an attack. Not only this, but they snuck past outside Crimean guards as well, suited up for battle. They could have disguised as travelers but why the small numbers?"

"They're up to something, Begnion and Daein," Ike commented. He crossed his arms. "Whatever it is, it doesn't make sense. If Begnion's after territory then they must not have a very smart tactician. If Daein was trying to, say, assassinate someone in Crimea, they would've been more discreet. The most they're accomplishing is being really obvious with their attempts."

"Are they trying to lure us somewhere?"

Ike and Titania traded glances. It was possible that Daein and Begnion were trying to lead them to something. Naesala rested his fingers below his chin thoughtfully.

"Hmm."

Tibarn raised an eyebrow at the raven, considering how to approach this. "You have something to say, King Kilvas?"

Naesala's eyes drifted upward. "Oh, nothing of importance, really."

"Really, now? Speak up! You've something to say."

"Hmmm..." His hand lazily fell from his chin and he crossed his arms. "I hear that there is a private gathering of powers in Daein. Say, almost like a militia that governs itself. Representatives from counties and territories in Daein come together to discuss their fate."

"And you know this how?"

"I simply...perk up my ears and point them in the right direction."

"Yeah. Just like last year," Tibarn retorted, glowering disdainfully.

Mia put a hand over her mouth as she yawned. This was boring and she wasn't one for such discussions. She would have just walked out, but that would've been rude.

"How about we try to follow their steps?" Oscar suggested suddenly, wanting to contribute. "If we trace their paths, we might make sense of some of it."

"Hm. Sounds like a plan," replied Caineghis as he nodded.

Ike, approving of this, turned to his trustworthy staff officer and muttered, "Get the map." Soren scurried off to the north hallway, down to the stairs at the end. They patiently and quietly waited with a bit of idle chatter.

The mood was mysteriously somber. Ike glanced around as if anything could happen or change within an instant. The only thing that changed were the shadows thrown along the floor and the walls. His eyes slightly stung from the fire in the hearth, but it was nothing to him. He felt Mist huddle close to his side, for her expression was glazed with a slight fear and drowsiness. Ike glanced down hesitantly. Unable to settle for anything else, he placed his hand on her sister's head and whispered, "You can go if you want." She just shook her head. Titania watched almost sadly in the silence.

Mia tilted her head toward Rhys upon noticing that he was rubbing the back of his hand somewhat anxiously. She patted him on the shoulder, forcing up a smile. Rhys could only gulp upon knowing it wasn't true.

Oscar was merely contemplating toward the fireplace, his chin secured between his thumb and finger thoughtfully as his left hand rested at his side.

Soren eventually rushed back down with a plain and old scroll clutched in his right hand. Since there was no table about, he had to unroll it himself, revealing a detailed map of Tellius near the right side of the couch. The others drew in to take a look at this map. He angled it so everyone could have a view of it, although Rhys stayed back with Mia and Mist as to not occupy too much room. Reyson and Leanne shifted to the settee's arm to see.

"I have a feeling we were being faced with distractions," Soren murmured, "when they dispatched that group to Melior... If they came directly from Daein, then they would either have crossed the mountains or marched across the Riven Bridge... Why send a single party on such a long distance just to die is beyond me, unless they intend to launch an assault on a larger scale or direct our attention in only one direction, in an attempt to confuse us. Whatever the intention, it has to be elaborate."

"Yeah, I mean...it's only been nearly a year since the last war ended, why start a new one now?" Ike commented.

"Well, they're up to something," Tibarn scoffed. He traced a path from Begnion to his homeland on the map. "So is Begnion. They want to take us on, fine. I'll have to set up defenses and find a way to retaliate against their accursed new 'cannons'."

"Kilvas isn't lending aid, is it?" asked Titania toward Naesala. He merely motioned his head left and right, which wasn't much of an answer. "No, huh?"

"If they are attempting to reclaim territory, they must be targetting the stronger nation first so that it will not intervene with affairs," Caineghis decided. "It is only essential to such a stratagem."

"What do they know about stratagems?" said Naesala. "Can't stop a couple of pirates raiding their ships, cannons or none."

"Have you _ever_ opposed one?" inquired Tibarn as he glanced at the raven.

Naesala shrugged rather indifferently. "I have received reports from one of my darkwings. They looted quite a bit of treasure without casualties."

Soren glanced up from the map. "...So what you're suggesting is that attacking a ship armed with cannons is a mere feat. And you're certain your crows were not simply bluffing?"

"Certainly, little one. Otherwise they couldn't know about the cannons."

"Unless they perked their ears in the right direction," Caineghis answered, earning a scoff mingled with a chuckle from Tibarn. Leanne and Reyson had been silent the entire time.

"It doesn't seem anyone can or wants to lend aid to each other in this time." Oscar had caught their attention with this as his squinted eyes visibly blinked. "Everyone's attacking each other or rebuilding what was ruined in the previous war."

Ike nodded in agreement. "Right. So Begnion's probably after territory, while Daein's trying to mess with our minds or wants to launch a large-scale assault but has totally given it away with the little guys they sent to their suicidal deaths. Is that right?"

They spent the night away like this, tracing the map, pointing and arguing, seeking hints and ideas of what should be done. Reyson and Leanne barely said a word. For in a world of conquest through country and empire, what could they, two herons of an insignificant forest, contribute to such presaged disarray?


	7. VI :: Anger, Sin, Discord

**Chapter 6: Anger, Sin, Discord**

_He lay expectantly on a queer altar in a melancholy serenity, affectionately caressed by the cold drafts of the solemn night. His gentle sighs echoed in the massive and warmth-deprived chamber whose round stone walls supported no roof to shadow the temple. The only object in the room was the altar. It was a smooth grey boulder, curved so his body slanted and his head hung, his chest thrust upward in forfeit to the heavens. His hands pleasantly rested upon his belly as he gazed up at the realm's only light -- the full moon, unaccompanied by its brethren. The moon reached past his obscure crimson eyes and slowly consumed the submitting soul within._

_There was a magnificent, almost imperial bliss in being devoured by a black and hallowed sky. It was a ritual found to dwell in the sacred bowels of one's darkest natures, to be freed by being imprisoned again, to be worshipped by being slain. By being vulnerable he felt immortal. Here was his heaven, his paradise. It was a loneliness that spared him fear and sorrow. There would be no anger, nor agony, to afflict this content body._

_Here came a figure from the shadows ringing the temple. Its features were vague, for it was a faded existence overlapping a plane of nothingness that this dream could not conjure. But it wore a familiar king's armor with a left pauldron bearing spikes and a red cape lined with white furs hung from his shoulders. In one hand, a steel torch was raised to the pauldron on his shoulder, and atop it burned a blue and white flame. In the other was a massive and wicked fang around which the fingers could hardly wind._

_This man stopped by the altar and seemed to maliciously inspect the boy's torso. The boy's grey cape draped down the rock and his unhindered locks of black-tail hair swayed from the sides._

_A deep voice smothered in avarice asked, "Whither?"_

_The boy's eyes had not budged from the beckoning moon. An adolescent voice, soaked in somber yearning, answered, "Eternity."_

_The blue torch rose to its highest point in the man's grasp. His right fist, clutching the yellow fang, approached the sancutary of the boy's beating heart. The curved fang pressed against his chest, creasing the clothing. Peacefully, a smile came upon the pale lips of the sacrifice, whose eyes closed and whose soul began to howl in ecstasy, soon to embrace heritage._

_Then he lost control. The bliss of silent, eager joy malformed into panic and fear as the fang bit down. His eyes pulled open, his hands slammed against the sides of the rock, and his smile became a gape through which air was inhaled. He lost conception and comprehension of the thieving powers that had almost robbed him blind. The boy thrashed to escape, pulling at the hand forcing the object into his heart, his face riddled with fright and shame. A shriek split the chamber as he fought. It was a female scream, certainly not his, and the reverberations mingled with the cackling of the man trying to murder Soren._

The feminine scream vanished as his lungs pulled in air through his lips and he brought himself back into mortal wake with widened eyes. Soren discovered he lay on his side, facing the opposite wall in a dark square room. An elbow was trapped beneath his body though both hands rested in front of him. He slowly breathed out, relaxing his eyes and gulping on a dry throat. The sun was not shining in his room, for it dwelt in a western hallway as the sun mounted the eastern horizon.

Soren sat up, feeling exceptionally exhausted. As he rubbed his eyes he led his attention out the window. The sun had barely penetrated night's shield, scarcely indicating that it was morn. Soren was still in his purple robes and his hair was a frightful mess. The strap around the wide collar had pressed against his hip, which he could notice sooner or later in the form of a reddish mark. The young man's face was pallid, so that his flushed cheeks and brow's mark were temporarily more prominent. Soren was still recovering from the sinister vision after falling dead asleep the previous night.

He could drop back to idle slumber, but that was against Soren's nature. He threw the tan blanket aside and slipped onto the floor with his robes and strap trailing off. The sage felt unsteady on his legs. Trapped in the realistic shriek from his nightmare, Soren waddled out with a mild stagger into the cold corridor, wondering how he could've been drowsy enough to forget about closing the door. No bands in his hair stopped its strands from whipping around him.

Days, almost a week, had gone by since the rendezvous of the laguz nobles. It was uneventful afterwards. They did, however, encounter a food crisis, so Soren mentally informed his hunger that they would not be eating that morning. Soren's stomach was loyally silent. There was no point in waiting for the others to awaken anymore, for now Soren could go out scouting on his own before everyone else.

He would do just that. Without tidying his hair, without checking that his robes were in order, the sage walked straight out to the forest. Soren felt that this had become an everyday procedure. The grass was misted with dew and the sun had hardly risen. The open air was cool and a rejuvenating atmosphere, colder in the shade provided by the exterior walls, but as he briskly proceeded toward the Gallian forests he could sense a very meager rise in humidity and temperature. There was more darkness between the lush trees, and a small gap in the woods indicated where the meadow's path was located.

Soren trod down the hill towards this path. At this point in life, loneliness was a mere melancholic nuisance. He did not hesitate to push past the twigs obscuring his vision of the grassy passage winding to the meadow. His ruby eyes adjusted to the absence of light, their pupils steadily expanding. Twigs scratched at his robes and clawed at his hair. The shadows dulled all colors. Soon, Soren felt just as dull.

All week he had avoided the others and eluded their eyes. Like in his unspoken childhood, Soren was being lured to his sepulcher of fear. He scolded himself for being so weak, so cowardly, and scolded himself for dwelling on these thoughts rather than on his duty, but he couldn't help it. Soren was unsettled, tipping over into instability. The boy couldn't see why he was so anxious.

What an insult to describe him a boy, for Soren's appearance betrayed his age and mind. No, rather titles of sage and tactician were more preferable.

Soren stopped upon reaching the meadow. This was the gathering point of the occasional scouting or hunting party and was also his meditation spot. Now was the time to cease wading through thoughts. Each direction was equally tempting to explore, though his eyes rested near the southwest. Soren turned a slight right and headed southwest.

Abruptly, Soren halted. His clothing and hair momentarily swayed past and around him. His breathing slowed as his eyes shifted about, seeking a mysterious hint in the darkened foliage, listening intently through the silence to the whispering wind spirits. Leaves began to rustle.

_"...Inan?" _quietly inquired Soren as the breeze faded. The wind paused. It then spoke again, gently but ominously, telling the mage to beware a diabolical but silent intruder. Hollow dread perched in his bosom while it expanded and withdrew beneath his robe's torso.

Not a single bird chirped. Shadows were difficult to distinguish. Soren suddenly felt quite lonely, and was somewhat cross over it. But he advanced into the forest with an undaunted stride.

The pupils of his eyes further dilated. Grass was soft in the darkness of the thick forests, muffling his now small and cautious footsteps. His ears probed the silence as he crouched through the bushes, glancing here and here, his spirit sampling the atmosphere for traces of a foreign presence. Naturally, the wind was silent. But even with such concentration, he did not sense any intruder of sorts. Soren stepped over a thin mossy tree that had fallen times ago from a blow.

It was a vague thought that was not complete in the least, dwelling in the farthest reaches of his mind. This thought was a word. That word was "Gallia". Somehow it surfaced to conscience like a paper in murky waters. Soren slowed to a stop and fell onto his hands and knees. The tactician was avoiding outside eyes, surveying the shadows around him. He began to remember all of the pain of his dim childhood, how the beast laguz stared right through him as if he didn't exist, how the beorcs chased him right out of their Gallian settlement, and those who didn't recognize the 'abominable spawn' didn't bother to look at him anyway. When he was dying of no food and fortune, he crawled on those very hands on knees.

Soren soon rose. He was certain the forest was empty. Even so, he had to traverse deeper.

He wrapped his arms around himself, cold and suddenly insecure. Perhaps going out today was a mistake. A new gloom coated the air and no one was in the forest. It was a waste of time. The mage's steps grew wearier with progress, and though the sun rose, the forest grew darker. Uneasily, he glanced up, glimpsing the late gibbous moon in the violet sky. It was always there to bear witness of the world's wrongs.

On went the mage, forcing his hands down once more. The tranquil forests were disturbed by the silence. This meant something was awry. Soren could not see what the source could be though, as he felt completely certain no one was present.

The trees drew close. Soren was the only shadow which moved. The forest was empty, as was the entire world. The birds and crickets must have died, for none sang in this ephemeral unity of night and day. Now it seemed as if night had reclaimed its throne. But there were no eyes to watch him, no ears to hear him breathe. It was as eerie as the emptiness of a corpse. Surely, he too had died.

Soren stalked through the trees, traipsing amongst the soundless void. Nothing was there to hint at anything except fear. Soren became more aware of his own breaths, which was the lone thing occupying the lack of noise.

He stopped at a tree, puzzled by it all. His brow pressed inward as his eyes drifted down, his head hung. The confounded mage sighed. It had to be true -- no one was about, and he was growing paranoid. Soren turned with resolve to organize his own issues.

A strike of pain -- a gasp of the throat -- a frightened confusion -- a fleck of blood -- Soren's hand shot across his chest to four extremely lengthy needles connecting the darkness to his left shoulder, and his fingers closed around the talons impaling him to the tree. His head had snapped up and the lips had parted in a rigid manner. The eyes were wide, the bosom pulsed desperately for air, and blood seeped into his robe where the slender needles had struck.

Soren's hand tightened then relaxed around the objects whilst he calmed himself. The mage's head fell forward and he blinked a few times, pacing his breaths to a slower rate. Then he saw the needles were stretching quite far from the distance blackness. They were so ridiculously long that it baffled him, and his face turned entirely pallid. Soren's breathing became irregular. His racing heart generated the adrenaline of panic, but he refused to lose control of himself.

A figure upon the edge of his sight compelled Soren to look up.

There was nothing human, nothing beorc nor laguz, about the ethereal nightmare standing several paces in front of him. Soren's breath froze in his lungs. He gawked, locks of hair scattering across his almost colorless face and concealing the mark of the brow, his eyes barely distinguishing a horrendous creature supporting grey flesh that practically dripped off of ribs and a spine. There were no organs present in the absent flesh of the monster's torso. The needles attached to a grey carcass hand without a thumb. White bloodshot eyes with silver irises shone upon a woman's dead face, peering at its prey beneath curving hairs of a translucent and precious gold. If it weren't for the grim, rotting appearance of the skin, her face could have almost been attractive.

What truly made this emaciated, bodiless skeleton so spiritual was that curling threads of odorless smoke emanated from her figure. Soren now had his two hands around the talons trapping him, and he thrashed madly while trying to keep his eyes away from the demon.

"Nn -- ah -- "

She began to approach him. Her stride was more graceful than the wings of a heron. The creature's waist-reaching hair fluttered around six sharply jointed arachnid limbs sprouting from her back. When Soren saw this, he was overcome with anger and terror, yelling as he writhed and struggled for freedom. His heart was beating feverishly and he sweated from all the effort. The sage started to lose focus of his own thoughts.

Now the creature was uncomfortably close. Soren stopped, panting hard, eyes wide. Her right hand settled upon his left shoulder, her claws still pinning through his flesh. The monster came so close that her ribs surrounded his arm and torso. Soren's hands had nothing to grab since her hand replaced the length of the needles, so they merely suspended themselves away from the injury.

Forth drew her head. Soren uselessly twisted against the tree, though he could not go far without widening the gash. At this time, the monster was too close, and Soren grabbed the cold grey arm pinning him to attempt at pulling it off.

Then his heart and frantic thoughts slowed. His panic was quelled by a mysterious serenade of presence. Soren hesitantly shifted his eyes from the rotting arm to the thing's face, meeting eyes with her divine gaze. She was almost an inch taller than him, with flesh completing her face down to the hands and collarbone, but below the collarbone was a walking skeleton layered with moist dead skin. The arachnid limbs sprouted from the spine as three per side and menacingly lifted above the two.

It was the eyes which captivated Soren's attention. They were large and shaped like almonds. The silver mirrored the red in Soren's own eyes, visibly reflecting his own emotions in subtle and delicate tide. Soren first witnessed anger as rage ignited within him, blinking as anger was replaced by confusion, then substituted with fear of a myriad of thoughts. His hands loosened their grip upon the arm and timidly crept inward to his chest. A new sensation possessed the sage -- beauty. As he beheld a celestial sorrow in that gaze, as her hand rested along his cheek with motherly tenderness, Soren's knees grew weak and his weight depended upon the tree to support it. Her claws retracted though the palm remained upon his shoulder. The temptress seduced Soren with his own sadness whilst he suspected nothing.

Soren was slowly falling against the tree as his focus blurred and throbbed towards darkness. The creature's soft lips approached his. She had no breath as they nearly lighted upon them, taming Soren's insecurity.

His eyes floated downward. Soren then suddenly remembered...

...she was a _freak_.

Soren's left hand thrust through the ribs he had seen into the spine of the monster, shoving her away. Her golden bangs flew from his pale face as she stumbled back. His heart quickly awoke, his blood racing in his veins and his eyes pulling open. Violently he swung his flattened right hand across to over his other side, screaming, "Ezakoo!" as he slashed his arm out. The same arm pulsed a green light and drained energy from his own spirit. Soren winced as his heart powerfully throbbed once, ejecting a fair amount of energy impelling the wind spirits into a frenzy, conjuring a furious swarm of slashing wind blades cutting across the monster. Soren whirled around and fled as she staggered.

The creature blankly gazed after the mage. She stood, looking rather lost and devastated, yet she shed no blood. Soon she was dashing after him with the agility of an experienced predator, crouched with her head thrust forward, pumping her legs into the earth as her arms and back limbs trailed behind. Occasionally one limb would cut through stray twigs or smack into a tree. Faint threads of smoke were left in her pursuit.

Soren was desperately stumbling around, panting deeply, turning to whatever his laguz side or magic class could offer. One thing was certain -- Soren could not sense the monster. The forest was difficult to see though, and any obstacle lagging him would ensure death or possibly worse. A root snagged the tail of his robes as he fled. He dashed straight into a tree and bounced off behind another. Bushes barricaded him, forcing the mage to race elsewhere. He trembled in every bone, his eyes frantically sought reprieve or sanctuary, his lungs burned in the humid forest air, and his own body temperature had risen to a level of panic. Soren halted at more bushes, turned his head right, and darted there but crashed into another tree. Though he was agile, his hunter surely was quicker.

And he did hear her coming. The shudders of distant bushes caught his ear. Soren scrambled behind the tree, sitting with his hands placed at his sides and his legs drawn up. He tried to quiet his frightened breaths, attempting to see some distinct path through the woods. His heart pounding, he let out a shuddering sigh at the familiar landmark which was the fallen tree. Soren quickly recognized his mistake.

He heard a loud rip as if a thin object had drilled right through bark. Soren twisted around, saw the creature behind the tree, then glanced up and lost his breath at the sight of the tree falling aside. Some sort of blade had cleanly sliced through its trunk inches above him.

Soren tried to breathe as he scurried for his landmark, hardly bothering to stand. The sage's feet were so close to the small fallen tree when he thrust down against the earth to launch over it. However, the monster reached out and her talons elongated from the nails of her left hand, shooting into the back of Soren's left ankle. He dropped upon the tree and grunted.

"Erf! Aaow...!"

He clawed clumsily at the dirt ahead, attempting to move. Soren stopped and winced, realizing in terror that her talons still hooked him in the left leg. He dared to turn his head, watching as her claws withdrew and sprouted once more in the form of blades as flexible as whips. In a panic, Soren thrashed over the tree and bolted off again. The trees were clearing up. The black shadows were driven away by the orange light of dawn. Surging with hope and desperation, Soren continued his relentless dash, having only one destination in mind as he darted around trees, immersed in the rhythmic beat of his pounding feet, his lashing robes, and his pulsating heart in the heat of the chase. So many questions occupied his mind alongside self-preservation.

_What is that?_

_Why is it here?_

_How did it come to be?_

_Just my luck!_

_Is this a futile run?_

A black figure with whipping locks of golden hair suddenly glided in front of him, its silver eyes lustfully fixed upon him.

"No!" exhaled Soren as he skidded to a halt.

The arachnid appendages swiftly closed around him. Soren fell onto his back, twisting and shouting with all of his effort, now bound to the fleshy skeletal body by the limbs, sprawled out with the demon's hands trapping his wrists to spread his arms apart and the thing's jagged jaws clutching his neck. Its ribs surrounded his torso and its legs were drawn up onto his loins.

Teeth bit down. Soren shut his eyes, yanked his head back in a feral scream, and a recessive strength flooded his limbs in the guise of heat. He wrestled with demon's own divine strength, managing to strenuously lift his wrists. Her teeth were biting down too hard. Soren had no room for thoughts that concerned whichever veins were penetrated.

The dawn-lit world was turning black again. No! No! "_GODDESS ASHERA!"_ he shrieked as memories of the name surfaced, memories that could not possibly be his own.

An arrow fired into the scene, embedding itself in the demon's cheek. Her face flew up in a fury toward the darkness before she angrily darted away. She made not a sound, leaving Soren as proof she ever existed.

Soren didn't know why she fled. But he snatched this opportunity to rise and run, his legs almost failing on him. Still, the figures in the forest were not clear, for there were only trickles of light streaming from the canopy. A voice was calling after Soren, but he could not distinguish it past his rushing blood and the thumps of his boots against the earth.

Trees blurred by. Twigs scratched at him again. Bushes were shadows and distant light was his safeguard. Soren dared not to falter in his dash. He was almost in the open, almost out of this newfound hell.

Soren burst out of the trees into the meadow. He screamed, almost shrilly for himself, flailing against a figure before falling to his side and staring up in panic. Realization slowly descended upon bedraggled, bloody Soren.

Ike was standing in that spot. He was hunched over with Ragnell gleaming over his head, his other hand cast out, and his sapphire eyes gazing upon Soren with shock, horror, and halted breath. Soren's eyes were wide and his lungs struggled to compose. Ike's arm fell and he dropped to his knees, clearly shocked at the gashes in his throat and the blood and dirt ruining various parts of the robe.

"Soren!" exclaimed the warrior as he dropped down.

"I...Ike..." Soren panted, never gladder than now to see his friend's face, to see the sky and be able to lay down. He sprawled there in almost a curl. Soren's eyelids relaxed, then his sight lost focus. The world ceased existence around him as his mind shut down. He collapsed into the state of unconsciousness, whether because of the overpowering adrenaline, the very experience itself, or the injuries he had hardly felt through the heat that numbed him.

Shinon stepped into the meadow with a bow in hand and a quiver slung over his back as Ike gazed at Soren's pallid face, cursing.


	8. VII :: Goldoa's Rage

**Chapter 7: Goldoa's Rage**

Though the gashes had been healed by Rhys's staff, slightly buldging marks remained visible around the unconscious sage's neck. They were unpleasant scars that had earlier compelled Ike to curse out loud every time he saw them while they triggered Boyd's similarly sour mood. Shinon hardly had any supporting comments other than catching a glimpse or shadow of what could have been the culprit. The outcome had left Gatrie and Mia barely able to respond because it had come so unexpected. Titania was sure that it was just a close encounter with an animal and Soren was fortunate that Shinon had stepped in, if not slightly discomforted by Shinon's description of the thing. Mist was overcome by worry and she had asked many questions aimed at Soren, although he was unconscious. Rolf disliked the fact that he had not been there with his teacher when Shinon shot the animal. Rolf thought it was partially his responsibility and fault because he couldn't help the mage in any way.

Ike sat at Soren's bedside, glowering at the ground in a chair taken from the kitchen as he recalled what had happened a few hours ago or so.

_Shinon slowly replaced the bow on his back whilst Ike gathered Soren in his arms. Silence settled over the meadow and brought it to order, though in Ike's viewpoint, there was nothing orderly about Soren's uncharacteristic response to crashing into him and dropping to the ground, laced with wounds that were not to be expected. As he was shifting Soren's body into a more comfortable bundle in his arms, Ike managed to glance up at the sniper standing a short distance away. Confused urgency replaced any emotion in the tan face. Shinon too seemed stern in response, especially after firing at some bizarre creature none of them should be able to identify._

_"What happened, Shinon?"_

_That was a natural question to begin with._

_Shinon breathed in, allowing his eyes to drift upward. "I went to check out the place when I heard the kid screaming. Just screaming. It was sort of mental, but I suppose yelling 'Goddess Ashera' at the top of your lungs when some beast is about to maul you is a perfectly normal way to react. I found some freak on top of the boy, can't say I know what it was, worse than any half-beast I've seen. Could barely see any detail of it. I think -- well, no, that would be plain stupid -- but I think it was some part-spider...thing. And its body had this tweaked shape, there's no telling what by the goddess it was."_

_Both times the word 'goddess' had been uttered, Soren's body involuntarily twitched. Ike held him close as though he was suddenly fragile. With blue eyes washed with concern, Ike gazed down at the pale body and the messy robes before managing to stand, carrying his staff officer. Ike already seemed more unkempt than just a moment past. The unnatural silence was presented only when intruders had scared birds and insects off. However, there had been no sign of a single soldier in this place. And although the sun rose to finally illuminate Tellius once more, it seemed as if something was absent. Something was missing from the dawn._

_Ike turned a tad as Shinon approached with his hands in his pockets. His red ponytail drifted behind._

_"Something that looks part-spider?" Ike distractedly replied. "That's...odd... I've never heard of..." He hesitated, seeming to gaze right through Shinon, but quickly shifted attention to Soren. "Let's get back. Right away." Ike whirled about and hurried off to the northern path leading back to the fort. The man did stop, however, to turn his head and say, "Thanks, Shinon." Ike then proceeded into the shaded passageway._

_Shinon merely stood there, staring blankly._

_Soren was so lightweight. As Ike trod through the woods, he glanced about in an attempt to distinguish any of the shadows around him. All he really did see were bushes and branches. Slowly his thoughts receded back to himself and the body he carried. Ike gazed with fatigue at Soren's face, wondering if Soren had really eaten anything lately, despite all the times he had seen Soren empty his bowl. He could not have possibly disposed of his food without anyone noticing after all._

_Ike was quite ready to yell at Soren as well once he had awoke. He wanted to yell at Soren for going out without notice, but Ike knew he could not possibly do that, because he had allowed it in the first place and yelling would simply be wrong. But seeing the wounds that had been dealt worried Ike to the brink. Any of them could have killed Soren just by tearing a major vein. Perhaps by sheer fortune or a miracle they had all been close calls, only a brush with death and nothing more. Ike trudged back in silence, glaring ahead, hoping Mist or Rhys would be awake by then._

Ike rested his hand over his forehead, which still donned the torn headband he had worn for years. This cast a shadow concealing the eyes from view. Emotions expressed in them would be hidden, particularly since the lips were flat and suggested only solemnity. Just a few seconds later his hand slipped down, cupping over the mouth and curling around the chin as he peered at Soren. The sage's wan face was burdened by exasperation. Ike dropped his hand from his face, delicately touching the scars on the throat with his fingers. Perhaps if he was there, he could have steered Soren off the path of harm. But his mind was infiltrated with so many questions. Soren could easily defend himself, blow down any animal that leapt in his direction with his wind magic because he had more than enough mastery to conjure it without tomes. Yet in this case Shinon had to shoot a part-spider beast off of him. Not only that, Soren had collided with Ike in the meadow and actually screamed before falling upon the ground, possessed by a look full of madness and trepidation. Nothing had ever done that before. Nothing was capable of it.

At least, nothing Ike knew of.

Soren's entire body twitched. As a hand suddenly shot forth from the covers and clutched Ike's wrist, his blue eyes widened with surprise, although they relaxed upon watching reddish eyes blink open as the hand holding his wrist softened its grip. Perhaps touching Soren's throat had triggered his awakening. Ike thought to do it again later, perhaps in the middle of the night, just to see if Soren would wake up. But then Ike would risk getting himself throttled. If Soren had tried to throttle Boyd for running into him in the hallway, Soren might try the same with him for being bothered in the middle of the night. Ike had to wipe these thoughts out of his head, however, for the current situation was a bit more dire.

A soft breath hissed from the pale lips. Ike adjusted himself onto the bed as his other hand swept a few black bangs out of his friend's face. Silence bridged the two, a bond between minds long befriended.

"...Hey. You feeling okay?" Ike quietly asked, his head tilting a bit.

Soren closed his eyes as his own head dropped to the side. "Not quite," he hoarsely replied. His other hand came to the same wrist he held. Soren clutched Ike's hand, still recuperating from the attack in the woods by that enigmatic fiend as he peered at the opposite wall. "I have...a lot to say."

A smile lit Ike's face and he nodded. But the smile could only fade, for it was a false gesture of reassurance brought in an attempt to defy his worries and concerns. His eyes fell to the opposite way in a sigh. "Soren...you're not leaving my sights again... You could have died. And I wasn't there, I was here thinking you were completely fine, when in fact you were battling some...thing." He straightened his head as he said this and leaned down toward Soren, who turned his gaze back to Ike's face. Ike would normally ask what had happened. But this was a friend he was speaking with, someone whose feelings he often considered before a word would leave his lips. "You've been going through a lot lately... I won't bother you. But you'll tell me what happened, won't you?"

Soren hesitated wearily and followed it up with a slow nod.

Ike leaned back and slipped off the bed. His cape trailed behind, leaving a crease in the bedsheets where he had once sat. His hand closed around the head of the chair to take it back, making almost no effort to lift it off the ground. As he stepped toward the door someone burst into the room and leapt upon Soren with thin arms thrown around him.

"Oh my gosh! Soren you're okay!" Mist cried, hugging him to the best of her strength. Soren blinked awkwardly at the ceiling and shifted in her desperate embrace.

"Mist?" Her brown hair was muffling the side of his mouth. "Is this necessary?"

The girl immediately bounced off the bed, apologetically clasping her hands near her belly. "Sorry..." said Mist sheepishly. She glanced down at her hands. "When Rhys told us what the damage was, I freaked out. I thought you were dying."

Loud footsteps approached the doorway, brandishing Titania's voice. "Mist, don't bother -- " The red-tressed paladin halted by the doorway, her braid recoiling against the air as she peered in, the emerald eyes seeing Ike as the first object in the room. She blinked and quickly turned her head in Soren's direction. "Oh, you're awake. How are you feeling? Do you need anything?"

"I'm fine..." Soren sighed, laying back down. All he wanted was some rest. The tactician shifted in his bed and turned his back to the door. His robes were still on him although the strap around the collar was askew, and his body was unusually sore. In most cases he would not feel this sore just by running. He had done quite some running in the past. Every joint, every limb, every muscle hurt to move, and he shut his eyes anxiously in an attempt to dismiss the voices entering his head.

Mist swayed with a concerned squeak resembling, "Oh..." while Ike glanced between them. He came in her direction rather impatiently and waved his sister out of the room. Ike followed as Mist turned about, her eyes on the ground, walking out of the room with a quiet attitude that was actually rather befitting for the girl due to her sensitivity for others.

Titania vanished from the entrance as Mist exited the place. Ike stopped at the doorway, looking over his shoulder at Soren's back and the blanket that had been drawn over the torso. His eyes dropped to the ground as he left.

The smell of ink and paper never changed, especially in this musty old place. Titania's expression suggested she could drop off to sleep at any time without notice. A flick of her wrist tossed the page aside, her eyes scanned the text, and she turned to the next page with the same motion. This was a secret project she had told none else about because it would become too personal when she was complete. Research was not a thing she often took to, but in this moment of her life, she had to see for herself just what answers could lie about. Some sort of dusty substance coated her fingers from resting upon the pages of the weathered book. Here and there she would see some mangled illustration in ink, weathered and smudged by time. It was a trying process. From the author's descriptions of her topic and what was drawn into the book, she could clearly see he or she was not fond of it, and Titania herself disliked this approach to the subject. She sighed as she turned the page again. Through the heavy rants and text she hardly obtained any useful information but rather masses of discrimination and opinion. She was tempted to just toss the book at the wall although doubt held her down. Titania was hoping for the slightest possibility that, though all of this nonsense, she would find some information.

Titania held the side of her head, bitter with the book and vexed over the emotional situation. She would normally not be too involved in the life of someone who pushed others away or repelled them. However, the recent news were too enticing to pass up. Naturally Titania would be intrigued enough to attempt at some research, small as their private library was.

She took up the decision to just close the book. It was an accursed thing based on impulsive thoughts oppressing the subject, or at least it was in Titania's opinion. But another reason she had ceased reading was because she thought she had heard a dull thud upstairs, and almost no one else was home because nearly the whole group went out hunting or gathering. The only people who remained were Rolf and Rhys. She wondered if either of them had fallen, but immediately remembered Soren was still in bed and suspected he could have fallen out. Titania rose from the chair, stepped around it, and pushed the seat in while sliding the book to the wall with her other hand.

She hurried down the corridors to the stairs at the end. The layout of the building offered a fair access to each floor with stairs in the northwest and the southeast, the latter to which she headed. Soren's room was in the west wing however. As Titania hurriedly mounted the stairs she knew she would have to pass through the southern hallway and then up into the western one. She did exactly that, nearly jogging in her rush, noticing neither Rolf nor Rhys were about. It was possible they were outside.

Up the first room, up the second, and her hand rested on the doorknob of the third. She pushed it forward and revealed to herself that Soren had indeed fallen. For whatever reason she could hardly wonder, but the fact remained that he was trying to support himself. Soren was on his belly, attempting to shove his weight back with his shaking arms. He had barely risen off the floor when Titania hurried over and knelt down to aid him. It was clear he did not have much energy for this, nor did he have many people to help. Titania cast her arms around the body and easily lifted him off the floor. Soren quietly pouted at the fact he was this lightweight, allowing the paladin to deposit him on the bed.

When Soren was safely sitting upright in the bed, arms crossed, Titania sighed as she knelt near the bed. "What happened?"

"I needed to go," Soren explained, turning his head away, "but I was still weak." He simply could not understand it. He had ample time to recover, to regain what strength was lost, and yet he could not move without dropping to his knees. In this case, to his stomach. Soren leaned back against the wall at the head of the bed, appearing quite puzzled though exhausted.

"Why did you need to leave?" asked Titania almost disapprovingly.

Soren glanced at her, then in a somewhat bashful and reluctant manner, looked to the window while muttering, "I had to...go. You know..."

Titania simply stared for a moment, then realized the awkwardness of the situation and let out a cry of, "Oh! Well, would you like me to help you to the..."

"No, it's not necessary, never mind."

"Are you certain? I can support you on your way to the bathroom."

"Really, it's not. Really."

"If you...say so..." They both remained silent for a few seconds. Soon recuperating from it, however, Titania added, "You can't stand? You were able to walk around a few hours ago, but now... What's wrong? Should we have Rhys take a look at you again?"

Soren slumped against the wall. "My back has been unusually sore, and I might be developing a fever..." The entirety of the time he had been in that bed, he had sweated from accumulation of body temperature and assumed it was just because of the bedsheets, but even laying on top of them or throwing them aside did not help to cool him down. Even further his eyesight was almost unfocused and his head ached in pain.

Titania placed a quivering hand over his forehead. Her emerald eyes just glimpsed the mark emblazoned upon the brow before her fingers concealed it. She realized that he was warmer than normal and issued a single nod, removing her hand, pushing herself up. "Wait here. I agree -- you may have a fever." Titania shook her head whilst she turned her back to him. It was aggravating and undoubtedly confounding. "This keeps happening to you nowadays, I can't see why... You always end up hurt or with a fever, it makes no sense..." She strode toward the door, her eyes distracted by the floor and the sight of her feet sweeping across it, kicking against the white and yellow dress. Then the woman stopped at the doorway. She glanced over her shoulder, gazed thoughtfully at Soren, and said, "Could it just be coincidence?"

The question was not rhetorical, yet Soren treated it like so. He silently stared back, almost in desperation for her to just leave. Titania pressed her lips together and swallowed. She sniffed, not minding her own slight headache as she retreated down the hallway, away from the light cast through the room by the window. The sun had only begun to descend.

Soren shifted uncomfortably in his bed now that Titania had trespassed upon his personal space. He lay down on his back, shutting his eyes as it burned with agony, though relieved by the cushion of the bed. A strand of black hair, so lightly touched by teal, slipped off his brow and let forth his mark to the world. Soren stared emptily at the stone ceiling away from the ribbons of sunlight streaking across his body. His left hand traveled toward the wall until it touched something. He pinched it between his thumb and first finger, then lifted it to his face to see it was one of the bands he used to tie his hair. Soren absentmindedly fiddled with the band in his two hands as his eyes drifted away from it. He rested the object on his chest, exasperated, his mind drained of any effort to think. Soren's hair scattered across the sheets, splaying out in an almost fiery presentation to those from above. Soren tossed the hairband aside and closed his eyes.

Titania hurried down the northwest stairs, her footsteps sounding prominently against the stone as her white dress shuddered around her legs. Her mind was set on finding Rhys. One could find this by a mere glance at her expression, the eyes set on the path she took as she wound down the corridor, hardly distracted by the torches on the walls while she headed into the fireplace room. As she entered the room, a single glance upon the couch informed her that Rhys was present.

Rhys was sitting in the settee with his hands on his knees. The sight of lashing red hair had caught his attention, and once he registered the expression on her face he knew it was serious. The priest pushed himself up, sweeping dust off the sides of his robes. "Ah, yes Titania?" asked Rhys, though the question could be mistaken for a statement.

"Soren," she replied with a jerk of her head up and sideways. "He fell out of bed. When I came to check on him, he said he'd been feeling unusually sore, moreso than he should. Do you think you can see to it?"

"Certainly," Rhys replied, and he followed Titania back through the northern door to the staircase. He had to stumble after the woman because she was tall and had a longer stride. Rhys hardly protested, but he was not very fond of exerting effort just to walk and match Titania's brisk pace. As Titania pounded up the stairs, Rhys lightly stepped upon them in pursuit, and at the top they circled the gap to proceed down the hallway.

The first two rooms were bypassed and they turned right into Soren's room. The young male was sprawled on his back, his right arm swinging feebly from the edge of the bed. He knew they had entered and yet did not respond for the first few seconds, pushing himself upright only when they came close, and a wince crossed his face as his back contracted in pain and his arms burned from some exasperation.

Rhys reached forth, striding through the room as though clawing his way through an imaginary forest. More or less it was just to guide him to avoid stumbling to a side as he approached Soren. Rhys, still mostly as frail as a year ago, had a slightly offput balance after trying to follow Titania's long strides and had to keep his equilibrium. As he neared he dared to glance into Soren's eyes. He began to wonder if there was a difference between apathy and emptiness, for Soren did not appear concerned, nor appeared to harbor any emotions. Rhys knelt down by the bed.

"Okay, so...just where are you sore?"

"All over the back, but most of the pain comes from the middle of the back, it feels."

Hearing himself say this, Soren's mind began to reminisce upon what had attacked him in the forest. That creature had large limbs mounted upon its back in the same spot. Sincerely, Soren hoped this was not associated with that.

Rhys nodded, exasperated but knowing he had a duty to help. "You're going to have to do more stretching, you know."

Soren sighed. Titania smirked just a bit as she stood at the doorway, watching, but decided to leave them to their own business. While Rhys was instructing Soren in the different stretch positions, Titania explored the hallways. She headed right first. That would take her roughly south if she was outside. At the end of the hallway was nothing but a turn to the left, stretching east. Then there would be stairs ending at the other side of that hallway, where it would bend left again to the north, and once more left to the hallway she was already in, which created a square with the four pathways. Thought crossed her expression. Titania began to circle the inner wall, following the hallways without thought. This had to be an omen. Titania was not extremely superstitious, yet she could scarcely shake off this ill boding that had dawned down on her. And when it came to omens, rain added this delicate hint of paranoia, a soft touch not discernable in flavor, but a tinge that was nonetheless unpleasant. Titania had stopped next to the open door of Mia's room. She peered through the chamber and over the bed, where a window visibly parted the stone. Rain was trickling through the skies.

Soren had his arms over his head, appearing slightly irritated as he locked his hands together and pushed the palms upward. Then Rhys instructed him to stretch his arms forward and heave his back out. Soren winced. Rhys watched carefully, flattening the robes against the muscles every so often to make sure there was no sort of disfiguration as Soren was stretching.

Both hesitated at the sign of rain drizzling northward. Rhys's hand slipped down in distraction.

There was a cry from the room, an exclamation of abashment, and stuttering apologies silenced by, "That hurt."

Titania, after walking a lap around the hallways, peered into the room in wonder of what had just occurred. She decided it was not important as Soren immediately resumed his previous stretch and Rhys continued inspection with more focus on his task.

"Rolf? Rolf, where are you?" Titania called down the hallways, searching for a hint of green hair. She had not seen the boy anywhere throughout the fort. Perhaps he had been training outside, and at that, he was sure to have retreated into the sanctuary of the fort walls to remain dry. Titania moved down the hallways as swiftly as possible, hurrying down the stairs in the midst of the western corridor which led directly down into the kitchen. As she hurried down, she emerged into the dim kitchen and cast her green eyes across the place, yet Rolf was nowhere present. But the sound of shuffling in the lobby brought a bit of relief to her mind. Titania whirled right and jogged into the lobby to see Rolf right outside the door, waving to the distance. She approached him from behind.

"Rolf?"

The boy lowered his hand, not at all strartled but appearing quite glad with something as he turned to face her. "Titania, they're coming back!"

"Right when the rain starts, hm?" replied Titania, staring out through the gap in the wall to the forest. A vague mass was headed in their direction. The leading individual visibly bore a bush of blue hair on his head though, as well as the old trademark headband. Titania was certain these were the remainder of the mercenaries. She smiled, nodding down at Rolf.

Rolf grinned back and ran out to greet the others. Titania assumed he was wanting to greet Shinon first, before welcoming the others back to the fort. It was not much to be welcomed here though. It was cold, often chilly as it was now, although normally it would not be this humid.

"Nothing seems out of place..." Rhys commented as Soren completed his stretches. The male sat on the bed in silence while Rhys contemplated the problem. He stared with those exhausted and slightly irritated burgundy eyes, attempting to read the thoughts in the priest's head, crossing his arms as he often did out of habit. Rhys began to gaze down in thought. Bypassing momentary silence, he glanced up once more and asked, "Any cramps or involuntary muscle reaction?"

Soren shook his head. Mostly he was at rest the most of the day, but with time his body found it further difficult to move without the fiery burn of soreness.

Yet a sensation dawned upon Soren far before Rhys would notice it to such a quantity. Someone was approaching, and Soren knew who it was. That energy signature was unmistakable. Desperate to meet his friend at the door, Soren suddenly shifted his weight off the bed and fell down. Rhys exclaimed right then.

"Soren, don't move so much! What's gotten into you?"

"Ike's here," Soren proclaimed, as though he had not fallen down. Rhys smiled somewhat awkwardly at his steadfast endurance and will to see Ike. He knelt down, offering his shoulder for the male to lean on as support.

"You might want to watch your way down the stairs."

Ike was nodding to Rolf as he was first greeted, then his eyes followed Rolf as the green-haired boy bounced at everyone else. Rolf thrust himself at Boyd and exclaimed about the large animal carcass mounted upon his right shoulder. Rolf then asked Shinon if he had gotten in any impressive shots, although the sniper shrugged and explained it was the usual. Oscar patted his little brother on the head, earning a jolly smile and a hug, before Rolf ran off to greet the others. While Mia was jubilantly welcoming Rolf by a playful punch in the shoulder, Oscar peered out through the drizzle to where Titania patiently awaited them at the doorway. She leaned toward a side of the wall and rested her arm along the wall. It was clear there was not much on her mind, as she appeared sincerely glad to see their safe return. Much food had also been yielded. Boyd, Gatrie, and Mia carried the bodies of fresh game, although blood was running down their arms from the steadily strengthening rain. Mist stood behind the group, holding a woven basket of various herbs and fruits, forced to wait for Rolf to come and hug her since she did not want to run at him and drop the herbs and fruits like she had done before.

"Ike!" cried a voice, and all eyes snapped to the entrance of the fortress, where Rhys stood carrying Soren by the arm across the shoulders. Soren was slumping and his knees could hardly support him. Ike widened his eyes, alarmed, and dashed away from the group to his side.

"Soren? Soren! Are you okay? Did you get hurt again?"

"Ike, I'm -- " Soren began, but Ike continued to speak.

"What happened? Do you need my help? Did Titania hurt you?"

"Ike!" called a third voice, issued by the cross Titania who somewhat disapprovingly had her arms folded at Ike's suggestion.

Soren gently smiled and shook his head as he attempted to further stand. "Ike, I'm okay... It just happened. My body's stiffened, that's all."

"He's so stubborn," Rhys commented with a smile of his own. "Like you. Care to help?"

Ike nodded with a sudden statement of, "You're not getting out of bed again." A sweep of Ike's arm sent Soren falling against the other arm, and Ike picked the sage right off the ground. Soren's hands drew in to his belly as timidly as a pup. Ike adjusted his body, raising the left shoulder with Soren's head on it to make it more comfortable on both of them. The blue-haired man then hurried into the fort as the group was slowly advancing several paces behind.

"Aw, isn't that cute?" said Titania, smirking, her emerald eyes following the two into the fort. She was awaiting the remainder of the mercenaries.

"Be quiet you," replied Ike in a slightly jesting tone.

As the party approached and began to enter the fort, their group thinning to fit through the doorway, Shinon stopped for a short chat with Titania. Boyd noticed this and also stopped. Oscar momentarily hesitated for Boyd, but proceeded inside nonetheless, smiling as he always did. Rolf was still clinging to Mist from the side and both were laughing. Mia walked up to Rhys and waved merrily, although Rhys did not want to be near the carcass over her shoulder. Gatrie simply retreated into the fort because he was becoming soaked in the rain.

As Ike was carrying Soren into the fireplace room, he sighed, "Stop being so much trouble, Soren. You're making me get grey hairs."

Soren's head slightly rolled to the side as a response. The eyes stared aside toward the shifting ground.

"I know, it's not your fault. People finding out what you are, and getting attacked left to right... I don't know, it's like a bad omen."

"Look, don't worry about me," Soren assured him with a feeble lift of his head. "I'm fine. Just... Maybe I pushed myself a bit. I was just unlucky. You should worry about yourself, Ike, and the rest of the company." Ike placed him into the settee. Both connected gazes for a meager time, somber but mutual, as Soren focused his thoughts on proving to Ike he would be fine. Then the tactician began to reminisce something peculiar. In an instant, his nightmare flashed through his eyes, fleeting as all thoughts could be, transient like reality and hours within minutes. When uncertainty flickered upon Soren's face Ike was brought to attention. Ike leaned in a bit. Soren drew back, recognizing that expression anywhere, and sighed.

Ike said, "Soren...what are you hiding?"

His red eyes evaded Ike's blue stare. "I...did have a dream. A nightmare, so to speak."

Ike leaned back as he shifted on his knees. "Hm?"

Soren clenched his jaws as he recalled the vision. It was a strange sight to have witnessed in his sleep. Contemplation glazed his expression, distancing Soren from his friend in thought. Ike easily noticed this. He was about to protest, but protesting had hardly made any advances. Ike instead closed his mouth and settled, waiting for Soren's thought process to come to a point where he would fade back into reality, then explain everything to him. At least that was how it often went in the past year. A few moments of silence passed before focus perched once against behind Soren's distant stare. Soren quickly looked at Ike, who forgivingly nodded.

A smile flitted past the pale lips of the mage before it vanished into the fog of fear. "I don't understand what it was about. It was...ominous. I saw myself lying on a stone altar, facing up to a vast open sky in the midst of a grand but cold stone chamber. There was only a moon in the sky. There were no stars." Soren pushed his hand against the arm of the couch to sit up. He winced and Ike motioned toward him on an impulse of concern, but Soren patted the hand down, indicating he was still in good condition. "What I found eerie was my expression. I looked...peaceful. Do you understand that, Ike? I can't... I don't see why I'd..." He shook his head rather anxiously. Ike closed his eyes to register this, then stood and plopped down onto the settee next to Soren.

"Peaceful? Isn't that a good thing?" Ike replied, rubbing the mage's shoulders a bit with a heavy hand.

Soren shook his head. "It just didn't seem right. I was laying there, waiting for something. Someone came, holding a large fang, while I just lay there as if I didn't care. As if...I wanted it to happen." Their eyes met before Soren dropped his once more. His mouth was dry and he could not seem to focus. His muscles were straining to support him, even if he was not actively moving about. "Something was familiar about that man... I don't know how, but... He put the fang on my chest. I smiled." Silence parted his sentence, a silence of enigma and isolated puzzling. "The fang pressed down. The pain...was exhilirating. And yet it vanished. My painlessness, that is. I just...panicked, so suddenly, when I was clearly at peace. It's mad... I think so." Soren pondered in restless fear over the concept, then his bleak gaze drifted to the clarity of his comrade's eyes. The clarity displayed tides in distress and wonder. Ike frowned, seeming to agree. Perhaps it was a tad incredible. Soren jerked his eyes aside and a sigh of tire rushed from his lungs. "I was flailing. The man laughed, I think. I don't know what, but something's wrong with me, Ike..." He paused with an almost dramatic effect. "I must be paranoid. I started to think if I had been cursed or something."

"Cursed?" Ike blurted, starting in his spot. He sat himself next to Soren thereafter. "No. You don't believe in that kind of stuff. Not very much, anyway." He placed his hand on the mage's ear and pushed him over. "Get some sleep, all right?"

"Ike -- " Soren began, immediately forcing himself upright once more. "You're telling me to sleep just as I tell you about a nightmare I had?"

Ike froze. He stared somewhat awkwardly, then managed to respond with a slow, "...Yeah. Sorry. I wasn't really thinking. I mean... Sleep should help you feel better. It's not going to come back..."

Ike thought so.

A frown traced the pale lips of the mage. Ike stilled his breathing prior to a nervous glance toward the left wall. He had found a disability in proper thinking these recent days. It was as though something had clouded his focus, and he was losing his grip on the facts of life. Soren sensed it. Like a wyvern, he sensed the warrior's unease, and too could not remain easy.

"Yeah, okay..." Ike murmured when he decided he could speak with Soren again. "I guess... I'll stay with you, I'll help you get around. You need to eat something."

Soren almost reluctantly nodded. His silence exposed the absence of rational thought. Complete uncertainty and a tinge of trepidation masked the pallid face. Soren could not contemplate correctly nor design efficient plan or thought, and this disabled him. It was one of the troubles to be dealt with. Ike recognized it. So he gazed off, troubled by the thought that their company would be plagued by slight discord for the time. There was something happening behind the curtain. It was something Ike could not see, nor had he known it was there, but if he could reach the curtain then he would rip it down and discover that which stumbled Soren's health. First he would have to recognize such a veil. It was a much more difficult task for this commander than expected.

Ike arose. Soren's eyes followed. A mask of vacancy was drawn over the expression, one that dedicated the shielded thoughts within Ike's mind to discovering an answer beneath the secret guise of cluelessness.

Ike slowly wandered to the cold and lonely fireplace, his legs dragging for unmotivated effort to move. Its torn cape fluttered behind. He sighed.

Soren curled. As though begging answer from a loyal sibling, he gazed to Ike's back, feeling rather abandoned. The silence of unease was distorted by voices in the background, summoned from the other rooms, drawn to the deprived atmosphere as it settled, dying under the tension and the desperation.

"Is there...any help for me?" Soren suddenly asked, tempted by a foreign thought.

Ike was quick to turn around, his hands tightening a bit. "What? What do you mean?"

The mage swallowed hard and he leaned down on his back. "I mean, what if I'm ill? What if I'm losing it -- ?"

"Don't talk like that -- " Ike intervened, speaking just before Soren had finished his statement. "Is there anything else? Anything else you can tell me? Of course! How did I forget? What happened in the forest?" With each word his speech quickened and he stepped toward Soren.

Soren's voice had meekly fled at the questions. He opened his mouth to reply, but nothing formed from his throat. One vague thought would be the decisive response until another scrambled its details. He did not know how to start. A single strand of black-teal hair fell in front of the nevus perched upon his brow. Ike shut his own mouth, trying to organize his thoughts.

"Sorry," he apologized, "again."

Soren gently shook his head. His lips closed.

Ike scratched at his hand, nervously glancing to the side. Another wordless moment separated them. Neither were fond of such moments, for they betrayed their trustworthy bond.

"Take a nap, then..." Ike murmured. "I'll bother you later. The food will be a while."

"Is he going to be okay?" Mist asked as the bowls were set out during lunch.

That was one peculiar thing about their everyday life now. The most exciting things happened around lunch or dinner. It was just becoming a recurring pattern, because those were the times when just about everyone had their minds set on food, and then their minds were cast into turmoil. Then strange things happened.

"I guess," Ike replied somewhat sullenly. For most of the waiting period, Ike had paced outside the fort, even if in the rain. It was better than sitting about.

Mist had met her brother at the entrance of the kitchen. In her slender hands, a small bowl was ready, a meager amount of hot water and chunks of meat with a few herbs collected in it. Not much else was available, so it was the best she and Oscar could manage. One small strawberry collected from the edge of the woods was clasped in her right hand, a little treat with a burst of flavor. Perhaps Soren hated just about anything they cooked, but Mist would force this down his throat if she had to!

"Well, let's take this to him," said Mist, attempting a bright smile. Ike slowly nodded and smoothly strode into the fireplace room, his little sister merrily jogging behind him.

Ike expected to see Soren lying in the settee, gazing gloomily at the darkened hearth, or perhaps even sitting upright in anticipation of their arrival. It left a sort of tension in his gut. Ike was afraid that he might discover some new shade of mistrust in his companion's burgundy eyes. Mist did not notice a thing, but was instead ready to force food down Soren's throat, since he had refused to eat numerous times in the past. Now that he was disabled, he was a vulnerable target. There was no avoiding lunch this time.

But the two saw, after a moment of staring from the right of the couch, that Soren was asleep. His head rested on the couch's right arm and his sprawled body faced the fireplace. Slow breaths proved his tranquil slumber from the slow rising and falls of his torso. While Mist stared dumbfounded, Ike grinned with renewed though still halfhearted vigor.

"Well, what do you know? He took my advice...and took a nap."

"Aww!" Mist exclaimed. "And I thought I could make him eat this time!"

"That's too bad," said Ike with a relaxed smile. He glanced down at the girl, resting a hand on her head. "It's not like you can make him eat in his sleep."

"I can try!" Mist protested.

Ike shook his head. "No, I won't let you embarrass yourself like that."

Mist sighed with a frustrated bounce. "Oh, fine!"

The two moved away to return to the kitchen. Mist's blue eyes flitted on Soren several times as they departed. He appeared genuinely at peace, as if nothing was disturbing him after all this time of chaos and angst. It warmed her heart to see even their coldest member so serene in his sleep. She smiled a bit as she and her brother retreated, returning to the kitchen where most of the mercenaries had seated themselves.

At that point, Soren sat up, still half-asleep, and slowly stared around before gazing through the door to the lobby.

"...Strawberries...?"

"I see you've come back with Soren's bowl," Rhys remarked as Mist and Ike entered the kitchen. He sat midway down the right row of seats in their perspective. "Wasn't he hungry?"

"He was asleep!" Mist exclaimed, looking rather disappointed. "Of all things, he was asleep..."

Ike plopped down in his chair. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner were his favorite times of the day. Their game had been bountiful enough as well, so Ike expected a good amount of meat for dinner. He loved meat. Ike could never tell with Soren, but then, that hardly mattered. Boyd seemed to like meat just as much as him, but Ike was far more voracious in appetite. He was certain most of the mercenaries feared his insatiable hunger for meats.

Lunch was particularly meaningless. It was mostly in hushed whispers or murmurs or conversations, with some random callings across the table occasionally. This surprised a few of them since these times were often more chaotic. Titania was pleased they finally had a calm lunch, although she felt somewhat guilty for thinking that when one of their members was not present. She stared at the empty table sitting left of Ike. Shinon was asking Rolf why he looked so tired, and Rolf could only answer with the excuse of training outside. Gatrie was striking a conversation up with Rhys somehow, wondering how Rhys could possibly get a girlfriend if he was so sickly. Mia was trying to prod a secret recipe out of Oscar and Boyd ate in a bored silence somewhat similar to Titania's. Ike showed his limitless hunger by pulling Mist's bowl away, teasing her as she took it back, only to have her brother slide it toward himself again. Light rain trickled out the two windows mounted on the two sides of the fireplace. A mild cloud of smoke from the hearth stung their eyes, but they were very accustomed to it. The fire beneath the pot was extinguished by now.

Lunch was swift to pass. Bowls were put away and mounted on the left counter to be washed later. The contents of Soren's bowl had been dumped back into the pot, still warm, and the bowl set aside for when he was awake. At that time, as Mist was putting the bowl down on the counter, the sound of a body's thump against the ground sounded through the fort. Everyone was in the lobby. Hearing the thud, they flooded into the fireplace room, Mist hurriedly jogging up behind the group.

Titania knelt down in front of the settee, the rest of the group standing behind it.

"Goodness, Soren, you should stop rolling out of bed in your sleep," said Titania, although the mage had fallen asleep again.

Shinon raised an eyebrow, though Rolf giggled and Rhys smiled. Both had been in the fort when it had happened the first time. Boyd stared blankly and Oscar merely appeared glad that Soren was unharmed. Ike was amused, yet he did not express it. Gatrie stared over their heads. Mia rocked somewhat impatiently on her feet.

Titania put the mage back in the couch.

"He's okay?" Mist sighed, recovering from the worry that had welled up inside.

Titania nodded, almost in a manner dismissing the group. Shinon immediately vanished from the room as if this whole thing was pointless. Gatrie followed him through the lobby, glancing over at the others once before they disappeared into the hallway at the other end of the chamber. Boyd simply shrugged and he too left, but through the hallway connecting the north of the fireplace room's wall. Rolf chased after his brother to pester him about something rather than bother Shinon. Mia decided there was no cause for concern and filed out into the lobby. Oscar, Mist, Rhys, Ike, and Titania remained.

"Well, I leave him to you," Titania remarked, nodding to the other four. She then headed out through the northern hallway to see what Rolf and Boyd would be up to, before checking on Shinon, Gatrie, and Mia. Rhys was quick to follow.

Ike glanced around at the other three with a slight sense of unease. "Um..."

"We don't have much else to do other than accompany Soren," Oscar said nonchalantly. "What could the others possibly want to do?"

"Maybe they're just uncomfortable around him," Mist answered, frowning delicately. "I mean...you know."

"Mist, you're always the one who said we were a family," Ike cut in, his eyes first set on them and then Soren. "So being uncomfortable's not much of an excuse to suddenly leave like that."

While Ike was talking, Soren had sat upright.

Oscar inclined his head as a hint for Ike, and Mist giggled. "Good morning, sleepyhead," greeted Mist. Ike turned around.

"It's obviously afternoon," Soren pointed out, his speech slightly slurred from sleep.

Ike patted Soren's head, saying, "Your hair's a mess..."

Soren sniffed, hardly budging as Ike fixed his hair. Then he said, "You had lunch without me?"

"You were asleep!" Mist reiterated.

"Oh, and you didn't wake me up. Thanks."

"Was that sarcasm?" Oscar chuckled.

"Well, I still saved a strawberry for you..." Mist said with a roll of her eyes. "And you will eat."

"I plan to."

Mist blinked, then widened her eyes. "...Oscar, I'm scared!" She ran behind the man, peering out at Ike and Soren. Ike stared as though she was touched in the head.

"Why's that?" asked Oscar, still smiling. He could tell this was a joke.

"Because...because...you know!"

"He's part-laguz, Mist. Not a vampire."

Ike laughed, and Soren blinked in a random direction.

"What, you thought he was going to make lunch out of you?" chortled Ike.

Mist came out from behind Oscar. "Ike, you know I was kidding."

"Well, yeah. But you just looked so serious, I couldn't help it."

One breath tainted the humor in the atmosphere with melancholy. It was Soren, who had released a silent exhale of exhaustion. The three were quick to notice and somewhat ceased with their joke.

"...Sorry, Soren," apologized Ike, still smiling a bit. He sat down by his friend, moving the blanket away from himself. Soren gazed back and explored the gleam in those blue eyes. The warrior seemed much more at ease this hour. It helped Soren to relax, who lay back and stretched.

"So...you still hungry?" Mist asked, nearly jumping over the couch as she bounded over.

Soren looked at the girl. "Well of course."

"It'll get it," Oscar offered, and with a sort of knightly grace he left the room.

Mist scurried around the couch to the other side and leapt onto the seat next to Ike. "So anyway, what if you were a vampire?"

Soren yawned.

"Hey, I'm talking to you."

"I just woke up, Mist... How do you expect me to answer that? 'If I was a vampire, half of the company would be wiped out by now.' Does that sound right to you?"

"No we wouldn't, you love us too much," said Ike.

Soren looked at him and Mist laughed. Mist dove over, throwing her arms around Soren. "That's right! Silly me!"

"Are you going to do this everyday?" Soren sighed, as though a hug was a foreign gesture.

"Maaaaybe..."

Soren shook his head, Ike grinned, and Mist tightened her embrace on Soren, who looked as if his air supply was choking off.

When Oscar came back, he noticed the scene and commented, "What, family bonding without me?" He smiled and put a warm bowl in Soren's hands as Mist pulled away. Oscar sat down with the three. "Well, it's a little more than what Rolf and Boyd have been doing recently for us three. Maybe some talking, but Rolf and Boyd usually argue, so we never have a peaceful conversation."

"Honestly! Can those two never get along?" Mist exclaimed with a rather childish frown. Soren started to scoop the venison up with his spoon, watching the others in subtle curiosity as he ate. Ike stretched on the settee and lay back.

"Well, when they're the only family you have..." Leisurely, Oscar inclined his head. He was very sincere in what he said. You learn to become fond of what you have, no matter how much it harrassed you. A nuisance was better than a knave.

Mist looked down. "I guess so..."

"Well," Ike added, "I consider Soren to be a younger brother." He leaned over, effectively resting his arm around everyone's shoulders as he pulled him in.

Soren swallowed what he had in his mouth. "I'm still older than Mist."

"Hey!"

"You know," Ike pondered, "it just isn't right without having everyone else around to bond with... But I guess they have their own things on mind to wander off like that."

"Must have," Oscar replied with slight concern.

"Let them do what they want," said Soren, staring at the fireplace as he ate. "Ulterior thoughts can be sensitive."

"Like you care!" Mist scoffed. Then she hesitated, thought glazing her face, before she asked, "What's ulterior?"

"The world."

"Huh?"

"Ulterior means either distant, or going beyond what is verbally suggested. Very simply, it's the unspoken."

Mist stared at Soren, though he had never glanced over in her direction. "Okay..."

"Well, he's right," Oscar agreed with a brief nod. "Best not to interfere with their personal thoughts for now."

"See, all you had to say was 'personal thoughts', Soren," Mist said, as though prodding for more conversation. Ike yawned. Soren said nothing but instead merely shrugged as he gulped another spoonful of stew.

There it appeared the conversation had died. There was nothing left to talk about. Mist watched the hearth, almost expectant to see it fire up for no reason, but the warmth of her 'brethren' were enough to shield Mist from the fort's afternoon chill. Oscar leaned back, letting the food in his stomach settle easier. Ike was watching Soren. When the mage noticed eyes were on him, he stopped eating for a moment, leaving just a small bit unfinished in the bowl, and met Ike's gaze with his own.

"Yes?"

Ike hesitated for a second or two. Then he managed to say, "Um... Well, this might be a bad time... But I was wondering if...you could, you know..."

Soren stared vacantly, then lowered his head to a full spoon. "The forest, right?" Into his mouth went the spoon and its contents.

Ike nodded. "Yeah." Oscar and Mist had turned their heads, wanting to know for themselves the details.

Soren thought about it. He thought over how to explain the events in the forest. It was a difficult thing to believe, but he needed it to sound as realistic as possible. Soren thought and thought, though his steady pattern of scooping stew and slipping it into his mouth only made him appear redundant and blank. Even so, the other three knew otherwise. There was always something on the mage's mind. He continued to contemplate, and yet could find no way to construct his witness without it sounding like a story instead. Defeated, Soren sighed and rested the bowl in his lap after eating a last spoonful. He would have to conjure up the best he could to flesh out the scene for them.

"Please keep in mind," he solemnly said, eyes closed in contemplation, "that I am not exaggerating anything that I say."

"Hm? Of course," Ike replied. He did not believe it could be so serious. Oscar and Mist nodded in agreement.

Soren began to think once again. He was reluctant to speak, for what he wanted to say only gave him the flair of a child crafting fantasies as a pathetic excuse not to seem so terrible. He had always detested this feeling.

"Boyd?"

Upstairs, Rolf peered into the room of himself and his brothers. Boyd lay on a bed, one leg drawn up, the other leg crossed over the knee. His arms rested behind his head. Boyd's lips were almost pursed in thought, which was unusual, as Boyd was not one to be lost in thought.

He turned his head to his younger brother. His jade eyes met Rolf's small face, which bore wide blue eyes sparkling in innocence and lime green hair shaggier than his own.

"Hey, pipsqueak."

Boyd's voice was its usual tone, but much calmer. This startled Rolf, who slipped past the door into the room and allowed the door to drift behind him.

"What's up...? For are you thinking about?"

Boyd gazed at him for a moment. Then he shifted his shoulders, attending to the ceiling with his eyes again. "Nothing."

Rolf began to walk to him. "You liar."

Boyd sharply glanced at him. "Am not."

Rolf crossed his arms, standing a foot away from the bed. "I wanna know what you're thinking about."

"Gee, you sound like Mist now," Boyd sighed as he sat upright, resting his hands in his lap and letting his legs hang over the edge. His head slacked.

"Come on," Rolf urged with a little twist of body in a juvenile gesture. "Tell me."

"No way."

"What!" Rolf exclaimed, indignant with his brother's blunt tone of voice. He sounded serious. Rolf flung his fists down in an attempt to seem vexed. "Why not!"

"A kid like you wouldn't understand!" Boyd replied just as irritably. "Get out of here! What's it to ya what I'm thinking, anyway?"

"You can't tell me what to do! What is it you're hiding?"

"I mean it!" Boyd spat, standing over the boy. "Serious! Get out of here, pee-wee."

Rolf gaped for a moment, at a loss of how to respond. Normally, they argued over meaningless things. That was what made them brothers. But Boyd was really hiding something from him, something that was very serious. It was unexpected. "Well! I...I..." He could only stammer as such, staring back at his brother in disbelief. Finally, upset, tears came to Rolf's eyes. "You're -- You're such a meathead!" Rolf whined. "Fine! I'll...I'll leave..." His tone weakened to a feeble volume, but the boy stormed out nonetheless. As brief as the encounter had been, Boyd's secret must have damaged their brotherly relationship. Mere thoughts were disrupting their usual behavior.

Titania stopped as Rolf briskly strode past her near the doorway, headed the other way. Confused, Titania poked her head into the room to see Boyd standing in front of his bed, staring down.

"Boyd... What's happened?"

"Nothing," Boyd immediately said, though he did not look at her. He sat back down.

Titania advanced. "Oh really..." Her calm voice was what disciplined these mercenaries when they were troubled and handled it wrongly. Boyd glanced the other way. Titania came to him and sat by his side, an inch or two apart.

Slowly, Boyd looked at her. "You know, that dress always makes you look pretty."

"Petty compliments will get you nowhere," Titania answered impartially. "...But thank you."

A weak grin came to Boyd's face. Nevertheless, it passed on, and he gazed at the wall. "...I guess I'm a little scared."

Titania inclined her head and torso. "Of what?"

Boyd shook his head. "I don't want to talk about it. It's stupid." Secretly, he also wanted to avoid a lecture from Titania.

"You can tell me."

"Nuh-uh."

"You're not going to tell me?"

"Hey, I turned pee-wee down! What makes you think -- "

"Don't take that tone of voice with me," Titania interrupted, straightening her back with a stern glare. She was his superior after all.

Boyd glared back, but sighed and merely dropped his eyes again, feeling guilty by now.

Titania stood. "Very well," she said rather severely. "I'll leave you to your thoughts, then, if you want to handle them yourself. I'm going to check on the others." She departed from his room, leaving Boyd to sit in his loneliness. Rhys was standing outside rather cautiously. As Titania stepped out of the room, Rhys peered him, then followed her down the hallway.

Shinon was downstairs in the armory room with Gatrie. Gatrie was leaning against the wall, watching Shinon pace. Both behaved as though they no longer knew the world.

"So..." Gatrie said, somewhat in a flat voice. "...What's up?"

Shinon shook his head, walking back and forth, hands clasped behind him and eyes fixed on the ground. He said nothing at first. But he was willing to talk to Gatrie, an old-time companion other than Titania.

"How long's it been?" muttered Shinon.

Gatrie rubbed his eye. "How long's what been?"

"Since Greil...you know." Shinon stopped and stared up.

"Oh..." Gatrie slumped against the wall. "You should know..."

"Yeah." Shinon turned and walked to where a suit of armor hung on the wall. It was Ike's, which had been removed between the time they had returned from hunting and lunchtime. "Not that long ago."

"A year's pretty long..."

"Hasn't even been a year yet, I bet."

Shinon continued to stare at the suit of armor with narrow emerald eyes. Momentarily, he was silent. Then he said, "Doesn't feel right... Just doesn't feel right."

Though he suspected something, Gatrie decided to cluelessly ask, "What?"

Hesitation parted the question from the answer. "Doesn't feel like we belong any more."

Gatrie nodded. It was a very brief answer. "Yeah. It's almost like we don't know anyone here. But hey, you've got Rolf, right? You're a little more connected to them, at least, right?"

Shinon turned to look at the man. "...Yeah. And all you do is chase around girls. Tell me, Gatrie -- what do you do, now that we can't go into town as often as we used to? Now we spend more of our time hunting, patrolling, gathering, or doing nothing."

"H-heh?" Gatrie blinked, and attempted to seem innocent. "What do you mean?"

"I mean...you usually don't get to see any new girls any more."

"Oh! Well, um... That Mia girl, she's not half-bad, you know..."

"So why don't you spend more time with her?"

"Oh, because...she's... Well, it's almost like she's impossible to get ahold of! She's always here or there, and usually she's with some other guy."

Shinon stared as though these words were of a different language. He remained silent, the green eyes burrowing into Gatrie's face.

"What? I'm not... Is there something on my face?" Gatrie felt over his face with a hand. He too was not wearing armor, but a large shirt instead and long shorts. "What? Why are you staring?"

"...I don't get it," Shinon said. "I mean, the one girl you get to see every day, who isn't as young as Mist, and you don't get ahold of her. What's with that? Are you being shy?"

"No!" Gatrie exclaimed, grinning sheepishly but somewhat warily at Shinon. "It's not shyness! I've just been trying to figure out how to make a move on her, that's all."

"Heh... Right. Any plans?"

"Well, um...er..."

"Listen, she's stuck with us. She can't dupe you and run off with your money like that gal did. But you can't just be an outright fool about it either. If she hates you, she'll be hating you and you won't get any break from it, because you know what? Now she's one of the mercenaries, and you gotta see her every day. So if you want a girl, think about how to get to her, don't just sit around trying to think of some pick-up line and quit being so shy."

"Oh...!" Gatrie sighed, abruptly seeming downhearted. "How can I make all of that fit together, Shinon? Stop being shy but don't do what I usually do? You know I can't do that!"

Shinon closed his eyes, distracted from what was previously occupying him. He sighed, opening those piercing eyes as he answered, "All right, I guess there aren't any favors I can ask of you, now that we don't go out to town very much. And it'll help me with my boredom. Fine, I'll help."

"Ah, thank you so much, my good old friend!" Gatrie celebrated cheerfully.

"Yeah, you're welcome. Old friend." Shinon smirked momentarily, though his previous thoughts returned. He was quick to dismiss them. He had work to do.

At that time, Titania prompted to pop her head in. "Speaking of old friends, your conversations get old." Rhys stood in the entrance next to her.

"Yeah, yeah. What're you doing here? Shouldn't you be accompanying the pups?" inquired Shinon, acting moderately displeased.

Titania slipped from the door's side and made herself visible at the armory's entrance, just next to Rhys.

"Oscar's taking care of them. What are you doing back here?"

"Just thinking," Shinon answered with a shrug.

"I'm just following him around," explained Gatrie.

"Thinking? Funny, everyone's thinking today, even Boyd." Titania stepped into the room, her dress fluttering around her heels as she flicked red hair out of her face. The woman's hair was much more vibrant in color than Shinon's, though both bore similar eyes. She did not ask anything of Gatrie. He was known for his deep friendship with Shinon, and was liable to follow him wherever he went should he not have a destination of his own. "About what?"

"Just old stuff," said Shinon discreetly. "Are you well, Rhys?"

Surprised, Rhys nodded. "Yes, I'm perfectly healthy, actually. Why do you ask?"

"You're supposed to be more sickly than Soren, but the boy's attracting illnesses and whatever. I find this to be very suspicious."

Gatrie and Titania were puzzled, Rhys concerned.

"What do you mean?" asked the priest.

Shinon shook his head, stuffing his hands into leather pockets. "I'm not accusing you of anything. I just find it to be a little ironic, that's all."

"Well, you do have a point..." Gatrie muttered.

"...Gah. Why does that little brat get all of the attention all of a sudden anyway?" Shinon started, now beginning to exhume a negative presence. "The hairy beasts and fat featherheads are bad enough."

"I do not approve of this talk," Titania flatly stated, "and nor will Ike."

"Ike, Ike, Ike. Titania, I don't give a damn whether that kid is our commander. You think he's so great, but he's been on his high horse for too long."

"What has gotten into you? Haven't you gotten over any of that?"

Shinon began to turn away, Gatrie growing more speechless with each moment as the argument escalated. Rhys also became a figure of silence in the background.

"Hey, it takes a while to get over something. In fact, it's only gotten worse. I didn't want to come back, you know -- only did because the whelp beat me at that duel... And he got lucky, that's all." Shinon had his back turned to the most of them by then. "Kids running a mercenary company, it's ridiculous..."

"Don't think like that." Titania watched him with his hands in his pocket. No quiver was mounted across his back as there often was. "Don't talk like that either. Ike has grown. You don't think he's worthy of his father's name? And why still the talk about glory? If I'm still here, serving in a humble mercenary company, why are you running off to make a living off of rising in the ranks?"

"It's not just glory," Shinon retaliated, "it's a living. What are we if we keep living in the ruts? A rodent infestation? Come on, I know common citizenry hire our services all the time, but we can still do that without being mercenaries, y'know?"

"But we wouldn't be there as often, no matter the position. You're not one to deal with complaints piling on you day after day. You can't deal with the stress of knowing there are dilemmas and situations happening all over Crimea. No, Shinon, I've been there -- " and she glared with that hardened emerald glare, " -- and you couldn't handle it. I barely could."

Shinon blew a red bang out of his face. "But you wouldn't be recognized for all the good things you do. People'll just call you sellsword, 'n freelance, 'n dog and all that."

Titania almost smirked. "So what, you'd want a rank in an army just to avoid petty insults like that?"

Shinon whipped around to face her. "That's not what I meant!"

"Might as well! Now, I understand," Titania began, her voice calming, "that you still don't like Ike. I understand that when you look at him, you can't help but think of Greil. But it's infuriating because he's not Greil. Am I right?"

Shinon matched green eyes with her, saying nothing in a stubborn silence.

"Maybe I'm not, maybe it's just me... But just try to differentiate the two, and get along with Ike. Your constant bickering or whining is no plus to your personality, and it's hard to get over your squabble with Soren not too long ago."

"I was... I was upset, all right? Sheesh, and I thought talking about Ike was bad enough..."

Titania shook her head. "But you must understand this. It's not healthy to the company."

"What isn't? My attitude?"

"Yes, your attitude. And also, it makes us worry. About you."

Shinon stared, somewhat with suspicion. "Really? Why worry about me?"

"Because we like you for who you are," Titania replied, "but you seem to be damaging yourself. And don't think about showing me too much attitude, Boyd's already done enough."

Shinon decided not to ask. It was not his business to nose around in whatever had occurred with Boyd upstairs. The sniper glumly nodded, staring to the side away from Titania.

"It's time to be fixing things up with everyone," said Titania with a bow of her head. "We still have a lot of recovering to do. ...I should know." Her thoughts drifted back to Greil. Though he already once had Elena, Titania could hardly help it. He had possessed so much that a person should have -- power and intelligence. She was very sure Shinon agreed. It was the reason Shinon was so reluctant to acknowledge Ike to be anything like Greil. "I suppose I'll stop bothering you so." Titania stared just over Shinon's head, though he continued gazing off to the side. It was at that point she turned and swept out of the armory room.

Rhys timidly stumbled out of her way and watched Titania depart. Gatrie was almost curled up near the wall, his blue eyes gazing out in solemn but helpless silence. Shinon kept his hands in his pockets as he pondered irritably at the ground.

"I went out to scout the area a little, as we normally did in the morning," narrated Soren throughout these events. "Or at least, as I normally did when no one else was awake. I took the usual path."

Mia was outside in the rain, staring out in wonder. An ominous haze of somberness and unease had thickened the clarity of their waking hours today. It was as though the sun had set early, for the screen of clouds smothered its welcome light and warmth. She rubbed her right arm and frowned. It was not like her to feel so hollow all of a sudden. Mia knew she was feeling apprehensive, but this only happened before a great clash between two sides at war was to take place. Standing in the rain was no better. Yet despite that she was compelled to stand, immobile, in the strengthening downpour of the sky's waters.

"The unnatural silence was there to start with, though the sun was rising like always. It had just barely broken the horizon. Its ray cut through the night like it should, the same inspiring sight for poets and troubadors. But you all get the idea." Soren shook his head, exhaling through his nostrils. "Everything contradicted itself, it seemed. I didn't see anything as I was walking through the forest, but I didn't even sense the thing coming. Normally something hints me off before it can show itself."

"Can you describe it?" Oscar asked quietly.

Soren nodded as the others leaned in a bit. A cautious glance around ordered them to, simply put, back off.

"It came out of nowhere," explained the scholarly mage. "As farfetched as this might sound, a claw shot out of the gloom and into my shoulder, pinning me to a tree. This claw could extend its nails to inhuman lengths. It was probably several feet long, as the nails traced back to something in the darkness of the thick woods."

"Wait," Mist interjected, "what are you saying?"

Soren hesitated to think. "Hmm... What is it you don't understand?"

"I mean... Well, I don't really get the image."

"Let's see. It's early morning, the woods are thick. It's dark all around. I'm standing beside a tree, frustrated, and turn around. Then something springs out from the darkness of the trees. They're like arrows on tight strings, but black and much thinner. In the shadows, something stands several feet away from me, nails extending from a withered hand of flesh."

Mist thought it over for a moment, then to clarify asked, "So it had really long nails, basically?"

"Basically. They could extend or retract, at will as it seemed."

Mist shuddered, her eyes widening. Oscar and Ike started to lean in again, overwhelmed with curiosity. Soren shot them a look as if demanding why they were not respecting his personal space. They drew back again, both ensuring to remind themselves to be more aware of their own impulses.

"The creature stepped out of the gloom. How to describe it?" Apathy seemed to glaze his expression, the mask of thought that he donned. "It did have something of a human frame. It walked on two legs and had arms. Definitely had a head. It had long golden locks reminiscent of a heron laguz's hair. The face was definitely feminine, but its skin was the decayed grey of carcass flesh. From the head down to the arms, it had skin. Its eyes were silver. There's something strange about those eyes. If you meet eyes with that thing, they almost bewitch the beholder, and the victim is rendered unable to move. That was what happened to me." Soren was not willing to elaborate what he truly felt during that moment. It was something complicated that he did not quite understand, and was somewhat reluctant to learn the truth of it. He thought that perhaps he saw a part of himself in those eyes. He didn't like to be looked at. Soren did not like people glancing into his inner being. While Mist was cringing slightly at the details, he continued. "Now, it has skin at the head and around the arms, but at the collarbone, the clavicle is where it stops. Below that is nothing but a skeleton. It still had flesh hanging off, I think. And from the -- "

"Ew! Eww!" Mist whined. "Stop making this sound like a ghost story, I feel like a little kid just listening to it!"

"Mist," Ike sighed with a smack to his forehead.

"...And from the spine," resumed Soren, but not in ignorance to Mist's statement, "there were six limbs, resembling the legs you would find on a spider. Large skeletal limbs. Its speed far outmatches that of most laguz, but something seems to slow it down. I never looked back when I was running. I'm not too sure."

He silently breathed in as deeply as his lungs would allow without straining. Oscar was no longer smiling as he usually did. He was absentmindedly nodding, registering the details, and Ike had fixed his blue eye right on Soren's red eye. Soren turned his head and the two engaged in a staring contest.

"I see what you mean," Ike said.

"It's hard to believe, I know."

"Well, I believe you. You know that."

"Yes."

"No matter how ridiculous it sounds. I believe you."

"...Thank you, Ike."

"As do I," added Oscar with an almost mischievous grin. "I take your word for it."

"If I believe you," Mist commented, "Ike has to take responsibility for protecting me!"

"Why do I have to babysit you?" Ike asked, his eyes trailing away from Soren's to match eyes with Mist.

"Because you're my older brother, and that's what brothers do."

"Boyd and Rolf do it all the time," said Oscar.

"That's not helping," Ike replied. Now Mist and Ike were hosting a staring contest.

Soren somewhat rolled his bowl back and forth between his hands, lifting one and lowering the other, alternating as the others occupied themselves with staring and other activities. He was almost bored, but mostly waited for them to return to the topic.

Mist's mouth twitched into a grin. She sniggered, glanced away, and almost laughed. "I -- I don't get it! How can you two look at each other and not crack over it?"

Ike straightened up triumphantly. "We're good like that." He pulled everyone in again. Oscar rested his arm along the shoulders of the others.

"This is kind of sad," sighed Oscar. "My own brothers aren't here... Well, would you like to continue, Soren?" He turned his squint to the mage but held that kindly smile.

Soren pondered on it for a moment. "I don't know if I would."

"We won't pressure you," confirmed Ike with a faint nod.

Mist cuddled up to Soren. "Do I have you call you Brother now, too?" she asked in a jest. Soren patted the girl on the head.

"Please, don't." He glanced up at Oscar, who was merely watching in good nature.

Silence ensued. Oscar took Soren's bowl back to the kitchen. Ike closed his eyes to think while Mist stared up in wonder. As Oscar was returning, Ike asked, "Is that why you ran out and into me, then fainted?"

"Faint?" Soren echoed, glancing at Ike. "...Perhaps. I don't remember what I was feeling beforehand, other than complete confusion." Apathy became tired melancholy, and Soren suddenly appeared quite worn.

"I'd be in a panic too," related Oscar as he seated himself, "if I were pursued by an undocumented beast."

"Undocumented?" inquired Mist.

"There's nothing about it," Soren replied with a stare at the fireplace. "You won't find any information on it in books or folklore. At least," and he turned his head, "not that we know of."

Mist contemplated. "Maybe we have a book like that in the study."

"If there was, I'd know of it," called a voice from the eastern doorway. Heads turned to meet Titania's glimmering green eyes. She seemed much more somber than when she had first departed earlier. "I'm sorry, but I had to see what the others were up to. Mia's in the rain for some reason while everyone else is upset over something else."

Ike frowned. "Can't we get them in here?"

"It doesn't appear they want to be bothered."

"No one wants to be bothered," said Soren as he peered over his shoulder. "People want attention, but certainly not to be bothered."

"Hmm, perhaps," answered Titania. Her flat lips did not relent to a smile.

Outside, Mia was shaking her head. "I can't come inside, Rhys. Not yet." Her right hand hovered by the scabbard of her sword.

"Why not?" pleaded the priest from the entrance. "You'll get sick... I can't have that."

"But something's really wrong, Rhys. Really, really wrong. I don't know what, but I feel like we're about to be in a big battle." Her voice quieted at the end and the strengthening rain distorted her voice. Her hair and dress were drenched.

"I-I can't hear you!" called Rhys.

"I said," Mia cried back, "something is really wrong! It feels like we're about to be in a big battle soon!"

"Oh! Well, come in, you can still survey the landscape through the windows without getting sick!"

"I told you, I'm not coming in!"

"Oh, Mia," sighed Rhys to himself as he began to acquiesce.

Soren's heart started to throb. His eyes widened a bit and his body temperature rose. A heated ache consumed his head and his body began to shudder. His lungs pained to exchange air, his trembling eyes gazed down at shivering fingers, and his thoughts scattered as his face grew cold in the heat and paleness surfaced on those worn cheeks of his. Ike caught the sudden change in the mage's body.

"Soren? What's wrong?"

"D-dragons," Soren gasped. Everyone looked at him. Soren glanced around, unable to pull away from the gripping sensation that possessed him, the wordless truth which had entered his mind, a soundless message with no voice but the signals of his brain. Fury almost blazed from his eyes in a sudden sweep of energy and harbingering. "Dragons!_Dragons_!" he shrieked, leaping to his feet, his heart pounding faster and his body growing hotter. Soren tried to think. He tried to compose himself. This was not like him. This was something else, something conjured by an outside source, but it was not him and it was not a result of his reasoning. It was something else. Soren could only blame something else. This panic and fear was not him. It couldn't be. It was the response of an animal which flees before the storm. It could never be Soren; only an animal.

Soren whipped around. He shook visibly in front of their eyes, and each one gaped. "What are you waiting for!" he snapped with a temper very unlike the mage. "Get out! _Get out! They're coming from the south_!"

"From the -- ?" Ike spluttered, jumping up as well. Ike was aware Soren could, at times, seem to just know something was coming. But it never manifested in such a manner as now. He wondered if Soren could actually sense such impending danger, if it was not merely an illusion. Soren himself had said he might be losing it. Ike did not believe such an absurd tale, however. Ike had the utmost faith in Soren's abilities, even faced with shattered rationalization at this very moment.

The warrior turned around. Mist was lost and Oscar was not smiling. Titania seemed rather appalled by this sudden outburst. "Check the south, immediately. We need to see what's going on."

Titania was quick to recover and urgently nodded. She turned and raced for the fort's entrance, which faced south. The others also stood and headed in that direction. Ike tried to bring Soren back from the bestial fright. He spoke to the mage, calling his name a few times, but Soren only shook his head and began backing up. Ike snatched his friend by the wrist and pulled him close. He spoke again, this time ordering the mage to come to his senses. Soren's wrist was unnaturally warm and Ike had to feel his forehead. A terrible fever was suddenly being run.

Mia and Rhys had both frozen in their spots, staring at the distant skies. Both had seen flashes of a black mob amongst the horizon. The skies were not completely dark and faint streams of sunlight streamed through the crevices in the clouds, so the invaders were vaguely visible as a dark mass in the distance. They approached at a frightening pace.

"What do you see?" Titania inquired as she came close. Rhys pointed up at the skies.

"That... What is that?"

Titania's gut dropped, hoping what Soren had said was not true. She hoped they were just visitors or something of the like. Yet the suggested shape of the wings and bodies, no matter how distant, did seem to indicate that they were indeed dragons. Titania did not see how this was possible. She could not fathom which one would be worse -- feral dragons or Goldoa's dragons.

Oscar and Mist ran up. Oscar could not see keenly well through his squint, though he was able to detect something far off.

"Oh no," Mist sighed. "Those aren't the dragons, are they?"

"Druh, dragons?" stuttered Rhys.

"_Dragons_?" shouted Mia, unsheathing her weapon. She held the blade in both hands. "Ha! We've fought dragons! Let's take them!"

"Wait," Titania commanded, walking forth. "What if they aren't aggressive? Let's not provoke them."

"I felt it!" Mia exclaimed. "I know they want to fight!"

"Put it away."

Mia glowered at her chances for excitement being cut down, but she stood straight and sheathed the sword.

Ike emerged from the fort, carrying Soren once again.

"So, what's the situation?"

"A group is approaching," Titania answered as she pointed in the distance. "Looks like the dragons after all..."

"Right." Ike nodded affirmitively, then turned to his sister. "Mist, get the others."

"I'm on it," Mist replied with a quick bow of her head. She darted back inside but was stopped.

"No need," grunted Boyd, heaving his axe over his shoulder. Rolf was behind him. Shinon and Gatrie were emerging from the hallway. "What's up?"

"We think we're being attacked by dragons..." Mist said, drawing an expression of fear. Rolf's eyes widened.

"Oh no, not dragons!" he yelped, running to the armory to get his bow and quiver.

"Dragons?" Shinon replied skeptically, stopping Rolf with a palm to the boy's head. "I don't think so. Probably just birdbrains or even wyverns."

"They must be pretty big wyverns," Mist remarked with her little frown.

"So we'll stay here and attempt to negotiate, if they're headed for us at all," suggested Ike. Soren squirmed.

"No! No, no, no, no..." he whined, quaking terribly.

"Soren's sick." Ike stared out at those around him. "His body's burning up. We're out for a tactician. Titania, can I depend on you?"

"Absolutely, Commander."

"We're in for a fight, Boss?" asked Boyd as he exited the fort.

"Put the axe down," said Titania. "We might cause unnecessary provocation."

"No! NO! YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND!" Soren howled, writhing so much that he actually dropped from Ike's arms. Startled, Ike quickly collapsed by him and lifted his body again.

The following flashed through Soren's mind in less than a second:

_"No! You don't understand!" the child howled, and his shaking hands clung to his mother's wrist._

_"I understand perfectly!" the mother snapped back as she yanked her hand away. Crimson eyes coldly regarded the child. "I'm doing this for you! Don't you understand? If I stand back and watch as the others fight, the dark god will drown us!"_

_"No! Mother, no! I don't want to lose you! I don't want to lose you!" sobbed the boy, rushing at his mother's leg and throwing his arms around her body. "Please don't fight! P-please! Please...!"_

_She shoved him away, and yet a sadness possessed her own heart as she watched him. Her eyes were cast about at the Goldoan surroundings. Dragons, red, white, and black alike lay in the streets. Some were slaughtered and some were falling back. Others stood tall in magnificent draconic countenances, their lungs fresh with air and minds dominated by bloodlust. Dragons were few in numbers and especially black dragons such as herself. She could not afford her child to die. Her child had to live for future generations._

_"No! Mother! No, no, no!"_

_The woman stood tall and closed her eyes. Her blood boiled with ferocity and her jaws ached for the kill. Power gripped the woman. It flooded her limbs and surged throughout her body, the light of laguz ancestry overcoming her being with a swift sigh rather than shattering glass. As soon as the thought flickered to life in her mind, she had become a towering black dragon. She opened her eyes and a yellow glare doomed her enemies. The dragon widened her jaws, releasing a thundering warcry into the apocalyptic skies, and she swung around as her tail slammed across agents of the 'dark god'. Her draconic brethren gathered around and helped her to fight, but all knew even their strength would not prove their longevity. Masses of the enemy swarmed close. The abandoned Goldoans breathed and blew dragonfire, their systems struggling to maintain their defenses._

_"Mother!"_

_The black dragon screamed, swatting her son away. He crashed into a box, hurled over it, and landed behind the crate with a painful thud. The boy was unconscious, yet in the instant before he was struck he knew nothing but fear, confusion, and sorrow._

_But she thought it kept him safe. And the dragons fought; they bled and they battled and they wrestled and they died, along with platoons of unnamed foes that the 'dark god' had brought upon them. One by one that isolated group of dragons had fallen. The little dragon boy behind the crates went unnoticed._

_800 years passed._

"I don't like this," said Shinon, echoing a quote Soren normally said. "The kid's cracked and we're fighting oversized wyverns."

"They're dragons!" Mia insisted.

"I'm getting my stuff." Shinon retreated into the fort for the retrieval of his weapons, this time allowing Rolf to follow.

Soren had quieted and stopped his blind struggle, possibly subdued after making impact with the ground.

Titania sighed in frustration, but even she admitted it was best not to risk a thing. She motioned Oscar toward the stables, and the man hurried off to retrieve their horses. Gatrie ran after Shinon for his lance and armor. Titania decided it was best to gear up as well. Ike lightly shook Soren in his arms, as the mage appeared to be falling asleep under some bizarre circumstance.

The dragons drew ever closer. On the skies their masses loomed, as few as they were. Red dragons and white dragons alike were a part of their vagabond platoon.

"Hold on a moment," Mia interjected, "they're -- "

"Flying?" Rhys finished alongside the myrmidon, and both could only gaze out in rather muddled confusion. Neither had seen a white or red dragon fly at all.

"We've only fought feral dragons," Ike answered with an unusually thoughtful twitch of his thumb along Soren's back. "But if it's Goldoan dragons that fly, that puts us at trouble..."

"What about Ena?" Mist suggested as she hung close to her brothers.

"Oh yeah. Ena couldn't fly either..."

The rage accompanying the dragons strengthened with every pace they closed on the mercenaries. Soren eventually went to hiding his face in his arms and trembling. Ike swallowed on his tongue, holding the mage close and glancing around at his fellows. Ike prevented any of his anxiety from manifesting on his face. If the commander was nervous, his men grew nervous as well. Ike couldn't have that.

Soon enough, the mercenaries had gathered in an insubstantial crowd, a company of members all at unease, fretting about with their weapons and horses. Titania's hand hardened on the handle to her shield as her mare pawed the ground beside her. The woman's other hand rested along her mount's nape. Mia was quite ready for battle though was reluctantly forced to keep her blade down. Rhys wanted to run.

* * *

We'll cut off the story here.

I sincerely apologize. It's been over a year since I began writing this story. I started this fanfiction in a fat black notebook with college ruled paper, one which I still possess to this day. I would gamble that I started writing it in August or September 2006. I loved the story so and thought I would actually finish it. I would preplan the chapters in a little outline and found that the entire story may as well have consisted of over eighty chapters. I loved this story, and am aware you might be one of those who loved it too. I do have reasons for ending it so abruptly. It's not just laziness or a dead inspiration either.

This pains me. I cannot leave you not knowing what the story was meant to be -- therefore, I will elaborate the story in a following chapter.

My reasons for giving up beside from the already mentioned? I feel it disrespects Soren. I even tried consulting him personally; he does not tolerate it to his fullest. So I must turn my attention away in pursuit of other things.

I will keep this short for now... I'll explain everything in the final passage, when such a time comes I can organize every single little thought.


	9. An Authoress's Overdue Compensation

It's almost been two years, hasn't it? Almost two years ago I promised I would explain everything.  
But I still haven't.  
What kind of writer am I? Why did I end a story with so much potential?  
Well, looking back on it now, I know there were lots of holes. There were many themes, many scenes, many openings for drama and vibrant life. But they all still had so many holes.

There was something about Soren back then. He captured my attention more than anyone else in the world, more than anything in any book I'd read. And there still is. I cannot see it so well anymore because we have weakened our connections, and because I am distracted by the life I have to live out in this world. But when I focus my eyes I can see it. That peculiar presence, the emotions and feelings his very appearance can stir, the sad calmness and tired intelligence that always depressed me yet helped me feel safe.

Oh, but I'm delving into a personal life. Perhaps even two. No, that is enough. On with what happened with the story, hm?

Let's see...

Unto Tellius, a Curse was like a prophecy to Radiant Dawn, to tell the truth. It's just that some messages were not transferred. Merciful goddess, I'd hardly gotten through eight chapters, what message could there possibly be? I can only remember one thing. Judgement.

Everything in the story was meant to lead up to a form of judgement. In this story, there is a dark god but no Yune. In this story, Ashera is whole and a benevolent goddess. Now as we know this is not the case, but this story was before Radiant Dawn. Untamed chaos would flood Tellius and a messenger of judgement had to be dispatched. In this concept, I was misled -- I believed Ashera to be an entity of balance, not pure order, as it was suggested in Path of Radiance so long ago.  
As you should have noticed, Soren plays an extremely important role in this story. Or at least, played an extremely important role in what was once a story. But what role could that be?

Ashera is despairing from the heavens. Her sorrow and anger pool into a shadow, a manifestation of a goddess's pain. The discontent amongst the beorc and laguz were what brought about such distraught deity, and although the Mad King's War was history the conflict between beorc and laguz had not been resolved. The shadow, the creature which formed from Ashera's pain was the spider-like revenant stalking the woods. Soren was not her only target. He just happened to be there. And perhaps she could sense these sentient beings she sought to sentence (alliteration unintended), so it's a possibility something about his presence drew her close.  
Any time this creature attacks a person, the victim is changed. The slightest wound triggers a transformation.  
This warps the victim's sense of identity. Beorc attacked by the revenant take on laguz features, but their differences can vary from obvious to subtle from the laguz. Laguz wounded by her are twisted into ravenous monstrosities -- they retain their former selves in a sound state. The children of beorc and laguz would take on laguz features, just like victimized beorc. Therein lies the problem.  
The very first version of the story in my mind had this in mind: After the attack, Soren would develop wings. They were feathery wings, black and dipped in white. What sort of laguz has those kinds of wings? Well, the crows certainly found it curious. Everyone else did too. These wings posed a serious hindrance to Soren, who was clumsy with them and could hardly keep his balance, let alone use them to fly. The development of these wings would, however, mark his role as a messenger of Judgement.  
Now then, much much later. Still before the release of Radiant Dawn, we were starting to conclude Soren carried the blood of black dragons. The signs were so blatantly obvious. I began to mull over my concepts. Why would he develop feathery wings? Would it not be more likely those wings would be of bone and membrane? But I was so attached to my vulture Soren. That was simply the sort of laguz I viewed his wings to belong to. A vulture -- misunderstood and with imperative roles in life. This may seem irrelevant, but it's a fun fact: the Egyptian hieroglyph for "mother" or "empress" was a vulture, because they were caring with their children.  
So in later versions of the story in my head, I decided to do something else. At first the wings looked feathery, looked to be the wings of a bird. But at some point in the story an angry mob of beorc stuck him to a massive wooden stake and lit a bonfire. You know how crucifixation goes, right? Well... Yeah, they were trying to burn him.  
The feathers would burn and peel away, revealing the true wings underneath. The flames would then burn through the membrane before Soren was rescued by comrades

Ugh, I have a long way to go... Let's see if I can keep this not confusing...

----------

March 11, 2009

Hello, everyone. I started writing this summary chapter a few years back but hardly made any advances. However, I have been receiving slow but steady reviews from a fanfiction I thought long dead. I have surmised it is the age to finish this incomplete story once and for all, whether by summary or by narrative.

Please do tell me how you have all been finding a story that's been buried beneath countless others.

I will modify what I have thus far and add some research information as well as story information.

----------

April 04, 2009

So much has been going on in my life. By that, I mean things that drive me into purpose. I'll try to keep working on this, but it will be a slow and steady thing.

Research

I would play Path of Radiance and along the way jot notes down. I would jot down quotes ("If you treat others in good faith, they will follow you of their own volition" ~Greil), names of enemies and locations (Kayachey, led the Daein occupation in Tor Garen), and miscellaneous content (herons can read the minds of others, especially in orderly conditions). Why, I still have the old paper here...

(11MAR09: .// Existing galdrar include Vigor, Bliss, Recovery, Valor, Rebirth, Awakening, and the unseen Dirge of Ruin that is mentioned by Reyson in Path of Radiance.)

**Storyline**

All right, this ought to be a bit complicated and jumbled up... Let's start with...what we do have, and what I had outlined.

_-Prologue-_  
You know it, everyone's together having themselves a happy ol' time, Soren's up in his room writing in his journal. A lot of foreshadowing happens here right away. And then Boyd runs into Soren and Soren tackles Boyd down the stairs and tries to strangle him.

_-Chapter One-_  
The day following the Prologue. I think what I did with Lethe's description was unnecessary, not even I could stay awake during that. A little more foreshadowing and a peek at everyday mercenary life, except with the guests to accompany the mercenaries. And I probably didn't get the "everyday mercenary life" tidbit correct either, but one makes mistakes. Oh yeah, and I don't know what sort of sauce Mist used either. Use your imagination. I had a bit of fun with the battle scene... Paltry amount of wyvern riders attacks the mercenaries, Zelia's mercenaries engage with the Greil company but Zelia and her troops pull out... What happened at the end? Today I'm not so certain. Perhaps it was my own imagination going wild, or perhaps Soren's anger really had gotten the better of him.  
_  
-Chapter Two-_  
A cemetary for a home. Cheerful, I know. I don't know what happened with Makalov and Marcia, but reading it now makes me chuckle. Eww... Did I really write "obscure crimson eyes"? Forgive me for being picky, but I've known for a long time Soren's eyes are a tranquil if not slightly troubled burgundy. So everyone's saying goodbye to Zelia's mercenaries, Soren's lying in the couch to recover from battle, Rhys is patching him up and then Oscar has a conversation with him... Lethe chases Ranulf around... I believe this is around dinnertime. Ah, yes, the mercenaries are heading outside to bury the bodies of their former enemies and Ike kicks Boyd in the shin for fooling around...  
I thought this was in the next chapter! Shinon quarrels with Soren. I _had too much fun_ with this fight, I think it was illegal. Shinon was particularly bitter. I was not intending on making him look bad, but he and Soren were never really on good terms. And again, the fight was illegally fun to write. Those italics after Shinon leaves the room is a direct quote from Path of Radiance, Soren versus Shinon in the Tor Garen fort. Mordecai finally comes in and notices the upturned couch and whatnot...  
Everyone files back in, they have dinner, and some of the guests take their leave while it's still dark. Kind of crazy now that I think about it. Titania talks to Soren, then goes to chew Shinon out. Everyone retires to bed.

_-Chapter Three-_  
Queen Elincia Ridell Crimea calls for the arms of the mercenaries, but a few stay home to look after their wounded staff officer. The spotlight goes to Ike, Mia, Rhys, Gatrie, Shinon, and Titania. They are riding with the Royal Guard (a complete fluke, turns out that's what they're called in Radiant Dawn as well) toward the Melior. (This was a look back into Daein. What is Daein up to? Well, there's trouble brewing over there, because no one is actually leading Daein any more. At this point in time a group of stuffy, avaricious men alongside wise, ambitious men thought to declare themselves the rightful leaders of Daein's shattered kingdom.) The mercenaries arrive in the capital and head away to meet the queen. Simple things happen, they have a rendezvous, and around here things get a little strange with Ike, Elincia, and Geoffrey. I swear I don't remember a thing of what I was poking at. These days I believe Ike is not and never will be interested in a deep relationship, and that Elincia would be happier with Geoffrey.  
At any rate, the mercenaries are there to bolster the guard. Some idiot group of rogue Daeins decided to attack the castle. Well, you never know, perhaps there was a greater number but some calamity befell them and reduced their numbers to desperate bits. Of course, I'm just whipping this up as I type. Some writer I am. Right?  
But enough of my self-esteem! Battle scenes appear to be my strong point. A lot is happening, so it may appear difficult to keep up with. Why, I had even forgotten that Mia was supposed to be there. I made up for it with Mia fighting off some mind-warped hawks within the walls. Those poor laguz, but that's how the world spins.  
After defending the Melior from the Daein invaders (Soren calls it the Melior), the mercenaries pull back to rest up. Then they go home and find Soren waiting for them.

_-Chapter Four-_  
Prior to Fire Emblem, I used to read a webcomic. Ever heard of 8-Bit Theatre (written by Brian Clevinger)? One of the characters, Black Mage, was a maniac suppressed by idiots who liked to stab people with a knife. Now, I don't know where my fascinations with knives and swords began. I believe it traces back to...Zelda...?  
Anyway, I liked the thought of Soren having some skill with a knife. (That doesn't mean I always gave him knives in Path of Radiance. Terrible use!) So here he is, training with Titania. A mage has to grow after all, no?  
I could spend all day picking at mistakes in my grammar.  
I just view Boyd as a klutz. A lovable one, but a klutz nevertheless. He and Ike seemed to be particularly close friends in the beginning of Path of Radiance. Boyd also had ties to Titania. I'd forgotten about him around this point in time, but Boyd really isn't such a bad character.  
I'd always thought Shinon liked Titania a bit. I don't remember why... For all we know, they could actually be related. ...Nah.  
Uhh... I honestly don't know where the spoon came from.  
Ah...now I remember. The unpleasant part of dinner. The wrong topic to have a conversation about. I can't believe I forgot about this... It seems so crucial, but I don't remember specifically why... Being a mixture of beorc and laguz heritage is always important though. (Have you ever considered...that beorc would refer to them as part-laguz, and laguz would refer to them as part-beorc? I was saying part-laguz for a small while before catching myself... What ignorance I've displayed.)  
I seem to love using...physical humor. Things like Soren opening the door Ike was leaning against and letting Ike fall down. This stuff is probably very common.  
Ah, is that the end of the chapter already? ...I find the mercenaries to be very loyal to Ike, but since Shinon doesn't like him... Self-explanatory.

_-Chapter Five-_  
Sorrowful Galdr. Path of Radiance mentioned only a few galdrar. Vigor, rebirth, and release. I believed that more galdrar existed before Radiant Dawn came out. Sorrowful Galdr is a peek into the goddess's pain -- but you see it only through Soren's encounter with the manifestation of Ashera's despair.  
The title refers more, however, to the suffering the laguz underwent and will undergo. Funny how all the laguz nobles decided to pay the mercenaries a visit, but they did all meet Ike and company in person.

(April 04, 2009)

It's kind of strange reading this now. It's as though I was not the one who wrote it. I like how I tried to keep all the mercenaries in character, though.

Ike reports to their visitors of the resurfacing Feral Ones. This is naturally a blow to the laguz, who have so long endured the cold, heartless bite of beorc chains, then generations later were forcefed toxins and elixirs under the beorc researcher Izuka's plans.

It also appears I gave Soren unusual gestures and characteristics... Cute ones that are sometimes a little scary in more ways than one.

Half of the mercenaries left the fort to scout the forest, the other half to protect their visitors present at that point: Reyson and Leanne. When all were together again, Tibarn had joined their number.

"Reason. Something the Begnions lack." Ha, I like that quote. I came up with that? How I yearn for such old wit...

It appears the story was going in a direction with Begnion developing warships. Almost historical fiction with how technology is being developed in this story. But I don't remember where I was going with these warships. It does contribute to war, since Begnion could savage whatever shores they explored... War and the chaos meant to bring out the dark god.

Begnion warships have been ravaging Phoenicis for four weeks...

(May 25, 2009)

I've been busy. However, I think I forgot to mention another galdr that Path of Radiance mentions. The Dirge of Ruin.

(June 9, 2009)

Yes, I love political contemplation...

Caineghis, Tibarn, Reyson, Leanne, Naesala... Conversing with Ike and his officers because of their fame throughout Tellius, a status that would get them involved in any conflict...

Well, the main point stands. Begnion has cannons and it'll cause more conflict, more discord. This is a major concern to the bird tribes. It would also embroil Goldoa and eventually Gallia, which occurs to the herons (who guard Lehran's Medallion).

In all honesty, I can't recall what direction I was going in with Begnion... With Daein, I have a vague idea. Daein had become somewhat self-governed, guided by a council of sorts between warriors. But otherwise it's not entirely clear.

Huh, was that all to the chapter? That was a bit boring...

_-Chapter Six-_

Anger, Sin, Discord. The title itself suggests a sort of rising action. It takes a spark and a little flame-fanning to make a blaze...

Ah, this dream... You can tell Soren plays some sort of significance in the story. I know the dream was supposed to give off a sense of foreboding while indicating that, well, something wicked this way came. The feminine scream was alluding to the true antagonist of the story, the shadow of Ashera's sorrow and wrath.

So Soren's out doing his part of the morning patrol before anyone else is even awake. And all is spooky and shady and amiss in general. Then he gets attacked by this demon spawn that's seductive and reflective in the eyes but hideously decayed below the face. Three pairs of jointed limbs sprouting from the spine.

This thing I made is actually a bit...well, freaky. Moving...right...along... (I apologize, I just don't like temptresses that use emotion to ensnare.)

So he rips away and runs for his life, but this thing's fast as bloody hell, and he has to dodge around all sorts of obstacles...

Ah, and it pins him down, and in his panic he starts receiving memories imbued within the dragon blood that he carries in his beorc veins. There Shinon saves him, and he snaps up and out, running into Ike in a frenzy. And then passing out.

(June 10, 2009)

_-Chapter Seven-_

What, I never even got to the eighth chapter before I stopped? Stars above.

Goldoa's Rage.

Soren's in recovery. After checking up on him, Titania goes down to the private library, doing a little research on beorc-laguz hybrids. He falls out of his bed, Titania hears and goes back up to help him back into the bed, then discovers he's developing a fever. Rhys is sent to tend to his symptoms. As this is going on, the other mercenaries are coming back from patrol as a rain starts up.

Ike and Soren talk, Soren thinks he's losing it.

Lunchtime, Soren takes a nap so he doesn't eat...

Everyone comes back from lunch, Titania helps Soren back into the couch since he fell out again...

Ah, ah. Boyd's being snappy at Rolf. He's being snappy because now that he knows Soren is part-laguz, he's forming fears of his own.

Shinon and Gatrie are talking... They do seem rather detached from the current company since Greil's gone, they've only got Titania really. Titania comes, has a slight argument with Shinon...

Mia's standing outside in the downpour. Rhys, concerned, tries to convince her to come back inside, but she claims to suspect a great battle approaching.

As though to reinforce her suspicions, Soren goes into freakout mode again. He's been made sensitive to phenomena like this, so he knows there are dragons coming from the south.

They're all suiting up for battle when he goes further into freakout mode and has a flashback. It's not his, it belongs to an ancestor.

So they're all standing, waiting for these flying Goldoans to arrive (flying? impossible! most Goldoans can't fly!), and then there's the cut-off.

...We begin the unwritten story.

* * *

**The Unwritten Storyline**

_-Chapter Seven Continued-_

What was basically supposed to happen was that the Goldoans attacked the mercenaries' stronghold, forcing the mercenaries to flee to Crimea. The Goldoans are being affected by some new influence that's washed across the land, and these select Goldoans have been touched in some way or other, which drove them to an odd sort of frenzy. Naturally, the influence being exerted over Tellius is the presence of Ashera's shadow.

_-Chapter Eight: As Before or as New?-_

The mercenaries take refuge in Crimea and report their encounter to the queen. Meanwhile, Soren starts to develop structures on his back. No, they're not jointed arachnid limbs... They've hardly even formed, really. Volke comes along with talk and reports from all around Tellius. They also stumble across Sothe (it's not clear to me how, I'm afraid). They do a little training during their time in Crimea. After a while, Volke takes his leave, and as though to replace him the merchant caravan makes its appearance. Sothe later makes his departure as well. By the end of this chapter, it becomes apparent Soren has _grown wings_ (though they're bare and for some reason resemble bird wings). This new development resulted from his encounter with Ashera's shadow.

_-Chapter Nine: Branded Laguz-_

Those wings eventually grow feathers (black and dipped in white). His hair changes as well... I can't quite remember how, I guess it takes on white along the edges as well. Curious. He has a training session with Bastian, but proves to be extremely clumsy with the new wings (sudden weight would probably make his back ache for a while). Still, he manages to make Bastian trip with some careful wind manipulation.

_-Chapter Ten: Trepidation-_

Every ten chapters was meant to be excessively important and detailed, more than likely the longest chapters of the story as well.

Volke returns to report that the mercenaries' stronghold is safe to occupy again. The Greil Mercenaries return to their home, where they sleep and play and train — whatever mercenaries do. Then one day, _Kilvas_ crows appear. Strange. What could their business there be? Why, they want to see the one who grew wings that were unlike any laguz. They seem captivated by the design, but eventually take their leave, not even bothering to pickpocket the mercenaries.

Ena and Rajaion come to apologize in their country's stead (this is when I had not realized Rajaion had _died at the end of Path of Radiance_, yes it's sad I didn't pick up on that). Followed by...a troop of Daeins? The Daeins come with a warning, but it's a friendly warning for the mercenaries: watch out for Begnion. That's not unusual at all. They stay for a little while.

Then Begnion soldiers attack the keep. The mercenaries and Daeins have to flee, but Crimea seems to have picked up on the situation and also sent a force to help. This doesn't appear to alleviate anything at all, and instead the mercenaries flee _south for Goldoa_. (Mind you, the more I'm looking over all this, the less sense it makes! This story's so illogical, it's no wonder I stopped writing it...)

In Goldoa, the mercenaries meet up with Prince Kurthnaga, who points out the goddess's anger and explains the destruction occurring throughout Tellius. Phoenicians come along to speak with the dragon king. While Tibarn is mildly surprised to see the mercenaries there, he's got other concerns: Phoenicians have been killed, and he's willing to blame Begnion and Daein.

_Ferals strike_, I don't remember this at all. Well, no, I fairly remember... Some army of ferals swarms Goldoa, which forces the mercenaries to flee. They take a ship (a ship in Goldoa?) and attempt to sail out to Phoenicis, but the ship's attacked by feral...wyverns. Hm, that's a problem. They're having trouble fending off the wild wyverns. Boyd, hastily believing that Soren with his new wings could already fly, pressures the mage to get up there and blast them out of the sky. Soren refuses, so Boyd pushes him over the edge, thinking that would make him fly.

No, Soren kinda gets dragged down in the water. Oscar dives in in a valiant effort to save the mage.

The wyverns retreat, but Soren and Oscar do not re-emerge.

The mercenaries, although shaken, resume sailing for Phoenicis. Ike defends Boyd despite what he did back in the thick of battle.

Naesala has discovered Soren and taken him into Kilvas...

_-Chapter Eleven: The Fire in the Forge-_

Naesala strikes a deal... What kind of deal? It doesn't say here, and I don't remember anything about a deal... Probably another contract to rob some merchant ship... Well, the Kilvas crows meet to discuss...something that I don't remember either.

Ike and company arrive on Phoenicis. Ike speaks to Tibarn, who had his own issues to attend to during the recent conflict, and afterward a search is launched to find Oscar and Soren. Curiously, Apostle Sanaki arrives on a ship to discuss something with Tibarn. Probably the state of things and Begnion's random aggressions.

_-Chapter Twelve: Merely Life-_

The story somewhat reduces to a calmer pace, detailing a more everyday scenario now. The mercenaries take on training with the hawks, Soren takes on flight training in Kilvas (he has hardly any choice, I can scarcely imagine attempting to fly in Kilvas, I'm sure their insults would sting). Some shoreline Begnions discover Oscar washed up on the shore (he must've found driftwood or something) and take him in to help him recover. Must be nice citizens or something. Haar and Jill drop by and meet Oscar by chance (what chance!) and Jill offers to stay with Oscar. They also find he's developing something in the neck...

_-Chapter Thirteen: A Pack of Traitors-_

Is it any surprise that a mutiny breaks out in Kilvas? A band of ravens turn on Naesala, driving him and his loyal subjects out, but they have to leave behind the mostly flightless Soren. Soren flees and hides deep within the Kilvas castle.

Naesala flies to Tibarn, surprisingly, and in his indignation explains what just happened to him. Seeing that the Greil Mercenaries have settled down in Phoenicis, Naesala also mentions that Soren is back at the castle, certain the mercenaries would help drive off the rebels to help their staff officer. Preparations are made in Phoenicis. Then the mercenaries set off...

...and soon collide with rebels, matching steel for talon.

_-Chapter Fourteen: To Be Beorc-_

It appears that the mercenaries are the victors, as they reunite with their lost tactician in Kilvas Castle. Basically it's a reunion and some exchange of information, based on what Soren overheard and what the mercenaries picked up while in Phoenicis. To explain the title, it refers to Soren fulfilling his duty as staff officer again, something that makes him feel like beorc like he used to — a civil, intelligent feeling.

_-Chapter Fifteen: Wrath Returns_-

The mercenaries sail back to Phoenicis and rest up. Jill flies in with Oscar, having received information of their whereabouts. Oscar has some message from Sephiran (I don't know what) and shows them his new gills! He had been attacked by Ashera's shadow or some such while he was in the water.

_-Chapter Sixteen: The Third Strike_-

Ike is taking a walk in the moonlight to clear his mind. Perhaps he was unlucky, for Ashera's shadow made its appearance and attacked. (Keep in mind they still don't know what this creature is.) Rolf and Mist had followed Ike, arriving just in time to see the attack happen. Ike and Rolf were roughed up, but perhaps the creature had some aversion to Mist, as she was left unscathed.

_-Chapter Seventeen: Grieve-_

Ike and Rolf are recuperating. While in bed, Ike recalls a time when his father was still alive, and the whole day becomes excruciatingly solemn. Titania discusses with Mist what had occurred. Later, Mia stumbles upon the graves of recently slain Phoenicians and mourning relatives. And no, Mia does not know how to cheer them up.

_-Chapter Eighteen: Thundering Rain-_

Is a storm about to hit? The wind's become violent and uncontrollable. In the middle of the day, Mist notices that Ike and Rolf are developing growths at their tailbones. Soon after that, Ulki hears the sound of dragons calling. Janaff follows this up by spotting dragons, wyverns, and rogue ravens in the distance. Having hardly any defense, the mercenaries take shelter with any Phoenicians who cannot defend themselves either. The attack eventually passes...

_-Chapter Nineteen: Ascend Anew-_

Soren seems to have picked up a galdr from somewhere, as he's started humming to himself a very depressing galdr. Tibarn, Ulki, and Janaff leave for Goldoa after what just happened, while Jill discusses her fears (I'm not sure what those might be). In their absence, a troop of pegasus knights from Begnion appear, demanding that the mercenaries surrender. Ike, entirely confused, tries to ask what they're surrendering to, but the pegasus knights just kidnap Soren rather than reply. When Tibarn returns, he declares war on Begnion.

_-Chapter Twenty: Churning Blood-_

Unable to fight his way out, Soren is given to a bishop and locked up. (Wait, is this part of some slave trade? Mercy above...) Ike attempts to talk Tibarn out of this war, but the hawk king pushes him aside and has his men prepare for battle on Begnion shores. Oscar swims off to...somewhere. Haar flies in, having learned that Jill was staying with the mercenaries, and with Jill attempts to talk the hawks into standing down. The hawks fly past them, forcing the wyvern riders to stay with the mercenaries.

Sanaki negotiates with some bishop while attempting to calm her people. Consumed by anger (over what, perhaps the conflict with Phoenicis or conflict in general), they drive her away, but they all run from the hawks swooping in. The hawks rip the place apart. Crows descend upon what wreckage is left behind, also relocating their lost Soren and taking him back. Oscar, who'd been swimming to Begnion with his developed marine characteristics, notices this and follows the crows back to Kilvas (must be a bother). But he gets stopped when Begnion ships get in the way. The Holy Guard is overhead and he calls to them. After speaking to their leader (Marcia's with them) they fly off to retrieve the Greil Mercenaries.

While the battle continues raging in Begnion, Daein has marched in to intervene. On whose side, I'm not certain. Reyson has found Naesala and they discuss things...

On his trip back to Kilvas, Soren goes into a trance. That usually means bad things.

The Holy Guard has managed to fly the Greil Mercenaries to Begnion, but hawks take notice of the pegasi and flatout attack. Shinon, with his expertise in archery, shoots down a few hawks. Goldoans storm into Begnion (not sure whose side they're on either) and blow the place apart. Phoenician hawks finally leave. Daeins and Goldoans also withdraw. Begnion is left with nothing but a husk and thousands of suddenly homeless citizens.

_-Chapter Twenty-One: The Cry of Kilvas_-

Naesala and his royal crows fly Soren to Daein after things have settled down.

The Greil Mercenaries are also headed to Daein; they probably want answers. Along the way, Rolf discovers _he can transform into a beast_, something like a cat laguz and something not quite like one. (Well, I think that was it. Maybe he was just discovering he grew a tail, like Ike did around the same time.) Marcia, with Makalov in tow, wants to accompany the Greil Mercenaries after the chaos she's witnessed.

Naesala sells Soren to a Daein general and rests someplace, having some conversation with somebody (I think).

_-Chapter Twenty-Two: Crimea's Occult-_

(Uggh, I can hardly sit any longer...)

A group of Daeins marches to Crimea. Soren's with him. As they come into a town, he meets two Branded children (in another version of the planned fanfic, he was to meet a Branded girl who comes to consider him as family later). The Daeins attack the Melior castle (and I think he helps the people/person he meets to escape, something like that). (I also believe the attack was to seize an Occult scroll. You know, they're really not that great in-game for Path of Radiance.)

-_Chapter Twenty-Three: Devils-_

The Daein general uses the occult scroll he stole from Crimea. (Whoop-dee-freaking-doo.) Soren has taken the Branded twins (or girl) with him and speaks with them, then has them hide away before he's shoved back in a cage. (Why's he even there? Probably to emphasize Daein's status as powerful, or just there for people to stare at and mull over.) They receive reports of there being intruders. The general gives the prisoner a chance to prove his worth, sending Soren out with Daein riders to investigate the intruders. (He still can't fly, he has to take a wyvern.)

The twins, meanwhile, speak to each other in their room.

It turns out the intruders are the Greil Mercenaries. After disabling the Daein wyvern riders, Soren exchanges information he picked up with them, then returns to avoid suspicion. (It's a big group, the mercenaries can't take on them all alone on unfamiliar territory.) Soren gets brutally punished for not coming back with the wyvern riders though.

_-Chapter Twenty-Four: The Wound of Their Pride-_

"Wound" referring to the Branded, "their" referring to beorc and laguz...

Soren speaks with the twins about themselves. (Uhh, hmm...it looks like that during the previous battle at the Crimean castle, the Daeins drove Elincia away and took her pegasus, wonder why that wasn't mentioned...) He sneaks out later to find this pegasus, keeping himself and the pegasus reassured.

_-Chapter Twenty-Five: Soldiers and Mercenaries-_

(I'm going mad here, I've never done such a long update on this thing. I'm also hating my own story more and more.)

The...summary on this paper's really vague, but I think what it's saying is that the mercenaries and Daeins are suddenly making preparations for battle, knowing it's imminent, and they meet on the battlefield. Ike and the Daein general with the occult scroll clash, Aether against whatever the other occult skill was meant to be. In the midst of the battle, Elincia's pegasus spooks and flies off — and Soren's on her back.

_-Chapter Twenty-Six: To Where Do We Depart?-_

The pegasus flies to the islands north of Daein. It turns out to be quite the haven. This whole chapter's basically about Soren and the pegasus disembarking on some mysterious islands where there is no conflict for once.

_-Chapter Twenty-Seven: Hollow Regret-_

A chapter reflecting on characters with some form of regret. Elincia, hiding away. Titania, leaving the mercenaries for the Daein council to find answers. Something's going on in the minds of Oscar, Ike, Haar, Gatrie, Mia, and Rolf as well. Lastly, Sothe seems to be occupied with his own thoughts, wherever he is.

_-Chapter Twenty-Eight: Howls-_

Boyd heads to a nearby Daein lake. He needs time to himself, so he's at the lake's edge, splashing his face with water. He notices a black figure darting by, but dismisses it and returns to his activity.

Ike is speaking to the rest of the Greil Mercenaries about Titania's disappearance. No note, no nothing. Then Boyd bursts in, shrieking, his face covered in black lesions.

He's recovered by nighttime and fit to go hunting with them. Something about the moon draws his attention, however...

_-Chapter Twenty-Nine: White Wings of Serenes-_

Why, it's Lord Lorazieh of the heron royal family. He's flown to the northern islands for some reason. And he has Alondite. (Why.) Sticking it in the ground, he's ready to relax while he's there, but then he happens upon Soren. They discuss the circumstances that led to their meeting and linger.

Sometime in the morning, Lorazieh finds Soren attempting to fly on his own. Being the pure-hearted individual he should be, Lorazieh decides to teach him a few things about flying.

Later on, he picks up on Soren humming that eerie galdr again...

_-Chapter Thirty: The Vulture-_

Thirty already? We're almost done with the planned part of the unwritten storyline... (Actually it is written, but as a bunch of brief summaries on a few pieces of paper, some of which are so vague that even I was confused.)

Zihark meets up with the mercenaries at some point, blabbering about arena battles.

The Royal Guard of Crimea finds Sanaki, alone and draggled, and takes her to safety.

Reyson is speaking to Tibarn, happily recounting his recovery until Leanne comes telling of their father's disappearance.

At the Daein base of the Imperial Guard, Titania has made her arrival, seeking to become a Rider of Daein. The council puts her strength and ability to the test. Finding her skills noteworthy, they make her a Rider.

The senators of Begnion are displeased with the state of things and begin plotting a stratagem against Phoenicis. Sigrun overhears this and discusses it with Tanith. Naesala visits, keen to make some sort of deal, but is turned away.

Meanwhile, in Gallia, Ranulf reports to Caineghis of a shadow attacking people all over Tellius between impossible intervals of time. Lethe is ill and very possibly involved, for she too had been attacked.

The twins have fled their confines and are hiding in a colosseum, whispering among themselves.

Kurthnaga is with Gareth in a castle dungeon, gazing into a darkened cell that contains a dragon twisted by the effects of Ashera's shadow.

Elincia is praying for things to go well while Geoffrey reports the emergence of a new war. Sanaki is trying to speak, but about what I'm not sure.

Stefan (probably in the desert) seems to have something on his mind...

In the Daein capital there's some conspiration going on.

Sephiran is standing among Begnion wreckage, accompanied by Nephenee (who also has a gill growth) and Astrid.

Something about Largo talking to Calill and pointing at Brom in Toha.

Something about Soren pondering and Lorazieh noticing this.

The mercenaries discover the Branded twins.

And something about Vulture. (I suppose it's Lorazieh comparing the likeness of Soren's spirit and his wings to the likeness of a vulture? Misunderstood and having a crucial role in the cycle of life?)

That's it for the planned part of the unwritten storyline.

* * *

**The Unorganized Storyline**

This isn't divided into sections. Because, well, it's unorganized.

I might get to this later in the day or tomorrow...

(June 10, 2009 - 8:23 P.M.)

All right.

Where'd the storyline leave off? Ah, chapter thirty. Strange...

Well, here's what I remember.

There was to be an attack on the northern island. Crows, I believe, to retake Soren. But he'd spent his time learning to fly and such, and not only that, he'd developed a connection with the pegasus and discovered Alondite. Would he recognize it at the Black Knight's sword? Perhaps.

Using Rose's agility and speed to escape, they flee the crows with some wind magic on their side to aid them. Something was to happen after or during that, but I can't quite recall what...

I don't recall the direction of the story at all. Perhaps there was so much to keep track of that I didn't even flesh everything out.

Somewhere along the line, Ike was to come into possession of the medallion and go berserk himself. He would target Mist, who the rest of the companies would be protecting. Soren would come into combat with Ike, having learned how to fly adeptly by then (and also come into possession of an unseen weapon, a pronged staff that was basically Alondite reforged, although I can't remember why or how either.) They clash on earth and at times in midair (when Soren carries Ike upward to gain an upper hand) until Soren snatches the medallion away on the end of his staff.

The moon was supposed to exert some influence over those touched by Ashera's shadow. Laguz wounded by her become true abominations, unstable and probably worse to face than feral laguz. Beorc and hybrids take on laguzlike characteristics. Naturally, they can't get comfortable with the new forms right away (their lifespans might even shorten, you never know). They were meant to go insane as it reached its full phase.

Mercenaries were going to die. Shinon by poison in a drink, Oscar by having his head severed in battle... The story wasn't going to be nice, survival-wise. Soren was going to die at the end. An ally would mistake him for the enemy and...

...Well, the idea stands. The story wasn't completely fleshed out, and is actually a bit ridiculous in some areas. The end would be a tragic one with no real destination for Ashera's shadow and such.

Yes, of course she'd vanish. Of course the dark god had something to do with the plot.

But, well.

There's the story's ghost for you.

No regrets. I finally finished.

It's storming heavily right now. I'm wondering what it means...

UTAC is done. I will still write stories, I should have vastly improved in the three years that have passed... But I no longer have to worry about this unfinished story. It's done now.

When you see Soren, see him as Soren. Don't. See. Him. As. Any. Other.

I thank the readers I once had and hope they find this...if they still wanted to.

_/terminated/_


End file.
